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My Wife Posted Album: “Our Daughter’s Wedding Yesterday!” 200 Photos. I Found Out From… The notification ping from my phone cut through the hum of the office air conditioning like a blade through silence. I glanced down, expecting one of Beth’s usual Instagram updates—food photos, motivational quotes about living your best life. Instead, I found a carousel of wedding photos that made my chest tighten and my hands tremble. “Our Daughter's Wedding Yesterday! So blessed to celebrate this perfect day with family and friends! #BlessedMom #WeddingBliss #FamilyFirst” Scrolling through image after image, I froze. There was Bree, my twenty-two-year-old daughter, radiant in a white gown I’d never seen. There was Beth, my wife, in an expensive navy dress, tears streaming down her face. And there was Jon—my business partner and brother—smiling, raising a champagne glass as if I wasn’t missing from this picture-perfect moment. Two hundred and thirty-seven photos. Two hundred and thirty-seven moments of the most important day of my daughter’s life. And I wasn’t in a single one. Not in the background, not in a corner, not even blurred out by mistake. I scrolled through the comments: “So beautiful!” “What a perfect family!” “Congratulations to the happy couple!” “Beth, you must be so proud!” Each one felt like a hammer to the chest. My name is Nick Foster. Forty-eight years old. Co-owner of Foster & Tate Electrical, a business I’d built from scratch over the past fifteen years. Mortgage, car payments, credit cards—my life was orderly, predictable, and, I thought, secure. My family was supposed to be the same. But apparently, I had been living in a parallel universe. Bree’s own post confirmed it: “Married my soulmate yesterday! So grateful for Mom's support and Uncle Jon's guidance. Starting our new life with so much love! #NewBeginnings #Grateful” Uncle Jon. My brother had walked my daughter down the aisle. The office tilted sideways around me. Co-workers tapped at keyboards, phones rang, the printer whirred—but none of it mattered. My world had shattered in a carousel of images, likes, and hashtags. The daughter I thought I knew, the wife I thought loved me, the brother I trusted—everything I had relied upon had shifted in a single, digital instant. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen, wondering how the life I thought I was living had slipped so completely out of my hands.