My wife and I were thrilled to attend Tom’s wedding.

It was an elegant affair, set in a picturesque venue with around 70 guests.

The ceremony was beautiful, and the atmosphere was filled with joy as Tom and Linda exchanged their vows.

The decorations were stunning, and everyone seemed genuinely happy.

As the evening progressed, we were eagerly anticipating the buffet.

The open bar was a hit, and our table was buzzing with conversation.

Jane and Bob, the friendly couple seated next to us, were equally excited about the upcoming food.

We all chatted while sipping wine, looking forward to the buffet, which had been described as a grand spread.

When the buffet was finally announced, the excitement was palpable.

The emcee called the family tables first, which made sense, but as the minutes passed, it became clear that the buffet was depleting rapidly.

By the time our table was called, the options were limited, and the once-bountiful spread was almost gone.

We managed to gather some scraps, but it was barely enough to satisfy our hunger.

“This is all that’s left?” Jane asked, examining her plate with disappointment. “Seems so,” I replied. “I hope the rest of the evening gets better.” We tried to make the best of it, but the mood at our table shifted from cheerful to tense. Our stomachs were growling, and the lack of food was becoming a significant issue.

Bob, trying to lighten the mood, joked, “Wouldn’t it be funny if we just ordered pizza?” The idea started as a joke, but desperation took over. Sarah and I, along with Jane and Bob, decided to go through with it.

We pooled our money and placed an order for four large pizzas and some wings from a nearby pizzeria. “Thirty minutes,” the delivery guy said. “We’ll be right there.” The pizzas arrived, and I carried them inside, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief. The sight of the pizza boxes drew curious looks from other guests. As we began to distribute the pizzas, the mood at our table lightened. We shared the pizza with nearby tables, and the grateful responses made us feel a bit better about the situation.

However, not everyone was pleased. Linda’s father, a stern-looking man in a suit, approached us. “Excuse me,” he said, his tone icy. “Where did you get that pizza?” I explained the situation, emphasizing that there hadn’t been enough food at the buffet. “Honestly, sir, we were starving. We had to order this to get something to eat.” His face flushed with anger. “You’re refusing to share?” “We barely had enough for ourselves,” I said, feeling the tension rise. “We’re still hungry.”