I took leave to be the maid of honor at my best friend's wedding. The moment I landed, Rachel Wendt showered me with lavish gifts: the newest flagship model smartphone, designer perfume, and other branded gifts.

"A little gift for you," Rachel said. "Even though I'm getting married, you're still the most important person in my life!"

I was deeply moved.

Early the next morning, I got up at dawn, changed into my maid of honor gown, and went to find her.

Rachel was having her makeup done. When she saw me, she excitedly waved at me. But the moment I went in closer, her face instantly turned icy.

"You tramp! Get the hell out of my wedding!"

I froze on the spot.

"Are you for real, Rachel? It's your big day. Come on, stop with the act. You're scaring me."

I forced a tentative laugh. I went in closer to Rachel, placing my hand on her arm, trying to end this very realistic joke with a casual touch.

Rachel instantly stepped back, keeping her distance. "Who's joking around? I'm not. Get lost right now, or I'm calling security."

My hand stiffened mid-air. My mind went blank as I desperately replayed what I might have done wrong.

Even when Rachel picked her phone up to call security, I was still trying to wrap my head around what happened. I could barely breathe.

I asked her, "Have I done something wrong? Or is there some custom here that I don't know about and have offended you? I'll apologize. Don't get angry, please."

Rachel had married far away, more than 800 kilometers from our city. It was only normal that there were some customs that I did not understand.

Clinging to that possibility like a lifeline, I looked at her sincerely.

"Please, talk to me."

Rachel merely glared at me. "There aren't any customs. I'm already being merciful by not spelling it out for you.

"Security! Take her away! I no longer want to see you, ever!"

Just the day before, we had been lying in the same bed, talking about childhood memories.

She had been so worried that I was tired from traveling that she even booked me a room to rest.

We had only been apart for three hours. Why had her attitude changed so drastically?

As the security guard approached me, I shook my head, looking at Rachel pleadingly. "I don't know what I've done wrong. You won't tell me either. I'll still apologize either way. I'm sorry.

"Today is the most important day of your life. Can you please let me stay? I'm your only maid of honor. What happens if I'm gone?"

Rachel immediately went up to me and tugged at my gown. "Take this off at once!"

She got her makeup artist to appear and huffed, "Any woman can be my maid of honor. You're not the only option here.

"Lindsay Shields, get lost at once! I have no time to waste with you. My makeup isn't done yet! You're going to ruin my wedding, you tramp!"

I held on tight to my gown to stop it from being torn open.

Being called a tramp drained all the strength in my body. I looked at Rachel listlessly.

Helpless, I took out a handmade silk fan that I had stayed up several nights crafting, placing it on the table.

"May you have a happy wedding. I'll return the gown to you in a while."

Rachel eagerly picked up the fan.

I thought that this situation was about to turn around, so I said, "I worked on that fan for a long time. I even burned my fingers. It's in the style that you like."

The next second, Rachel threw the fan on the ground, smashing it to pieces.

She pointed at the door and barked icily, "Get out!"

I returned to my room and got out of the maid of honor's gown before sending Rachel a message, [I'm at the hotel. If you need me, just call me anytime.]

I realized Rachel had blocked me, clear with the red exclamation mark next to the message; the message was not sent.

I lay on the bed, dejected and confused. What happened?

Soon, Rachel got the security to escort me out.

Dragging my suitcase through the freezing wind, I stared at the wedding welcome photos displayed outside.

I called the groom, Daniel Rice. I had to know why. Even if I was going to die, I wanted to die understanding the truth.

The call connected.

Daniel, who had always been polite and courteous around me, suddenly spoke in a threatening tone.

"You've got some nerve calling me! Just Rachel's luck to have a ratty friend like you! Just get lost!" Daniel snapped.

His words jolted me like an electric shock. Somehow, I understood what was happening.

Carrying the gifts that Rachel gave me the day before, I slipped past security and headed back to Rachel's room.

Ignoring the contempt on her face, I said, "Do you think I'm materialistic? That I accept all your gifts for the money? I'll return it all to you. I just want you as a friend."

The day before, when she showered me with the gifts, I had found it all too extravagant to accept them. I refused once, but Rachel said that I would not be a very good friend if I turned down her gifts.

Perhaps she was testing me at the time.

Rachel looked at the gifts in disgust, as if they were all trash. Then, she looked at me, saying, "These are nothing to me. I'll say it once more: get lost. Otherwise, I'll call the cops and sue you for trespassing. My husband-to-be is powerful and rich, not to mention that he loves me. You'll be looking at jail time."

Then, Rachel dialed her phone.

Before the call connected, I left without the gifts.

I was barely a distance from her room when the gifts were also thrown out of the room.

I went back and picked them up. After all, it was a waste to throw them away. I had spent a lot, between the days I took off and the flight ticket.

I chose the afternoon flight to head home. That way, if Rachel needed me, I could still rush over to her.

I told my boyfriend, Zach Jaden, about this. I even sent him the photos from the day before, of me trying on the maid-of-honor's gown, chatting and laughing around with Rachel.

[This was the gown. It wasn't revealing or eye-catching. I tied my hair up in a demure bun. I wore simple jewelry. Respectful, but not flashy. I didn't even wear heels. I was shorter than Rachel. I have done all that I could think of, but I still don't understand why.]

Zach sent a hugging emoji.

[Since you've done nothing wrong, the problem lies with the friendship itself. Don't torture yourself over it. Come home. I'll take you out for dinner tonight. We'll relax and unwind.]

I sighed.

I was eagerly waiting for Rachel's message, but as I heard the last call for my flight, Rachel still had not sent me any message.

I went home, walking back to my rented place, deflated.

Zach had said he would pick me up from the airport, but he had a last-minute business trip and could not come.

The dinner that he promised me was also postponed indefinitely.

My college roommate of four years, now my housemate, Sharon Christie, noticed how depressed I looked.

She asked, "What happened? Did something happen at the wedding?"

I recounted the incident. She looked at me with widened eyes. "How did this happen?"

I had no idea. I sighed heavily. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed. You should get some rest, too."

Sharon nodded.

The next morning, I woke up to breakfast ready on the table. Sharon left a note, [Cheer up! I've gone to work.]

My heart felt full at the gesture.

After graduation, we were broke, so we decided to rent a place together. Later, as we got richer, we still continued sharing a place together. We were the best of friends.

I finished breakfast and took a photo for Sharon. Then, I tidied up and headed to work.

My superior had only approved two days of leave for me. He said I was an important figure in the company, so I could not be away for a long time. If I did not show up that day, my salary was going to be docked.

I stepped into the meeting room and saw the chairperson, Barbara Walkers, who rarely appeared.

I smiled at her, and she responded with a smile.

However, the moment I took a seat, her expression darkened. She slammed the table and sprang to her feet.

Barbara pointed at me, her face twisted with anger.

"You! Get lost at once! You're fired!"

I was dumbfounded. This was all too similar to the scene that happened yesterday.

"Why?" I asked, puzzled. "Did something happen to the project?"

Barbara shook her head. "The project is going well."

"Is it because I took a few days off?"

"George approved your leave. It followed company policy."

"Then why are you firing me? I did nothing wrong."

"Lindsay Shields, I'm the boss. If I say you're fired, you're fired. Go to HR and collect your compensation, then leave my company in five minutes."

Barbara dropped back in her chair, heaving with anger.

She was usually a kind woman, always treating everyone in the company like her children. She was motherly and gentle. Even if someone had made a mistake, as long as it was not detrimental, she would always give them a chance to correct it.

I had not made a mistake at all. Besides, my performance had consistently ranked first in the company. She even thought of sending me abroad to handle the overseas business. She promised me that if the project ended smoothly, she would promote me and give me a raise.

All that, and she was looking at me with disgust this very moment, asking me to get lost.

I felt as if I had been cursed.

I asked, "Why? I didn't do anything wrong. Why are you firing me?"

George, my supervisor, was soothing Barbara, pointing to me at the same time, saying, "Just go. If you aggravate her condition, your little severance package won't even be enough to cover medical bills."

His words snapped me back to reality. I indeed could not afford that risk.

I left the meeting room, only to hear my colleagues murmuring among themselves, "I knew she'd get fired."

I rushed over to them, seemingly trying to find an explanation, "Tell me, why would I get fired?"

They replied, "Because you're a tramp."

Tramp.

There it was again.

Rachel also called me a tramp the day before. Daniel as well.

What had I done?

I looked at my reflection through the glass door. I was in a professional pantsuit. I was not in a miniskirt.

My shoes were leather loafers, not stilettos. I was dressed properly without any thick makeup or strange clothes.

I asked helplessly, "Tell me, why am I a tramp? What did I do?"

They took a few steps back, looking at me in disgust. They said to the security guard who just arrived, "Take her away."

I was once again escorted by guards.

I dejectedly left the building when my phone beeped.

The severance compensation had arrived in my bank account.

I called Zach, failing to stop my tears. Once he picked up, I cried and said, "It happened again. I don't understand why! Why are they doing this to me? I didn't do anything."

Zach replied, full of concern, "Don't worry. I'll stop work and come to see you. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have gone on a business trip. I'll come back at once. Don't be sad, babe."

Then, he sent me his flight details. "I'll be arriving at the airport around five in the evening. You don't have to pick me up. We'll head to dinner together."

"It's fine. You don't have to risk your job for me. I'll feel guilty."

Zach chuckled dotingly. "Isn't that what having a boyfriend is for? To trouble him? If I can't be there for you when you're upset, what's the point of me? I'll handle things here. Don't worry. I won't let go of my work, or of you."