The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. I was surrounded by the people who loved me, and even more, my cousin wanted to do something so intimate by making me a wedding dress.
Everything felt right.
We spent weeks choosing the design and fabrics. We pored over the magazines and websites, and finally, I had an idea in mind.
One day, I met Sarah at her office, ready to take my final measurements so that she could start with my dress.
“You’re going to look amazing,” she said, taking my measurements precisely, jotting down everything carefully on her writing pad.
“Oh, I hope so,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee as Sarah put her measuring tape away. “I’ve been on a strict diet, and I’m finally happy with my weight. So, it’s just about maintaining my figure now.”
“You look good, Jess,” she said. “But if anything changes and you find yourself losing or gaining weight, just let me know, and you can come in for another fitting.”
I nodded and left, eager to see how my dress was going to turn out.
But when I went for the final fitting, things took a turn.
I slipped into the dress, but something was wrong—it was way too small. I couldn’t even zip it up, no matter how hard I sucked in my breath.
“Jess! Are you crazy to gain weight before the wedding?” Sarah asked, her tone dripping with mock concern.
My heart sank. We were two weeks away from the wedding, and judging from this fitting, I didn’t have a dress.
“I haven’t gained any weight, Sarah,” I replied. “I’ve been too stressed to eat. If anything, I should have lost weight because of that!”
Sarah shrugged, barely concealing a smirk that was plastered onto her face.
“Well, I’ll try to fix it, but with the wedding so close, I can’t make any promises. I have other clients waiting for their orders, too, Jess.”
Her words rang loud and clear in my head as I drove away from her office.
And then it hit me — this wasn’t an accident. I recalled the way she spoke to me, and the tone in her voice. There was no remorse in her mistake. There was no mix-up in measurements. There was no weight gain with me.
This was deliberate, and Sarah had made the dress too small on purpose.
“I don’t know what to do,” I told Michael when he got home that evening.
“Show me the dress?” he asked, pouring himself a glass of water.
“What! No!” I exclaimed. “The dress may be a mess, but it’s bad luck for you to see!”
“Look, why don’t you take the dress to Mrs. Lawson? She’s my mom’s friend, and she does all her alterations. She’s making Mom’s dress for the wedding, too.”
So, I gathered the awful dress and went to Mrs. Lawson, who was a retired seamstress with a reputation for miracles.
“Oh, honey,” she said when I walked in. “Michael phoned me and told me all about the mess. But I’ve seen the worst and made it a hundred times better.”
“This might be tricky, though,” I said, showing her the dress.
“Honey, I’ve seen it all, trust me. Let’s make this work,” she chuckled.
Together, we transformed the original design into something completely new. A chic, short, cocktail-style dress that was bold, unconventional, and a bit edgy for a wedding.
But it was absolutely stunning. It was everything Sarah’s dress wasn’t: fun, flirty, and perfectly me.
When it was time to walk down the aisle, my heart raced. I stood in the bridal suite of the wedding venue and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked beautiful. I felt beautiful.
As my dad walked into the room to get me, his jaw dropped.
“My darling,” he said. “You look incredible! Wow!”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I know it’s not what we all envisioned me wearing for my wedding, but it’s been the best surprise. I feel like a bride.”
“That’s the only thing that matters, darling,” he said.
Soon, my entrance music began, and goosebumps appeared all over my body as a classical version of a Lana Del Rey song took over the room.
Heads turned.
And I felt the buzz of admiration follow me as people watched me walk in. I knew that my dress was a hit.
When I got closer to Michael, his eyes widened, and his smile took over his face. I knew then that the man I was about to marry fell in love with me all over again.
But before I took my place next to Michael, I turned to Sarah, wanting to see her expression first.
Her face was priceless: she was pale and shocked. I knew she had expected to see me in tears, humiliated by her sabotage and wearing that horrible dress she had designed.
Instead, I was glowing, smiling from ear to ear.
The ceremony went off without a hitch, Michael’s vows leaving me in tears and my heart full of love for the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
But then came the reception.
Michael and I were mingling with our guests when Sarah cornered me.
“Jess, what happened to the dress? Where’s my original design? Why did you change it?” she asked, trying to hide her confusion.
I grinned.
“Oh, I thought I’d take your design and make it better! Remember, you weren’t even sure that you could do anything about it. And I was bursting out of it because it was at least two sizes too small.”
“So, that’s it? You just threw away my hard work?” she gasped. “That’s low!”
“No, Sarah, your work is the foundation of this dress. It’s just a hundred times better because the woman who fixed it wanted me to look and feel beautiful on my wedding day.”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Around us, guests kept complimenting my dress, calling it unique and stunning.
Sarah had no choice but to stand there and listen.
“Come on, love,” Michael called to me. “Let’s do our first dance so that I can really get into the buffet after! The roast beef is to die for!”
“I’m coming,” I smiled, finally happy.
What would you have done?
I Discovered My Husband Claims I’m His Child’s Caretaker Whom He Keeps Employed Due to Pity — I Enacted My Retribution Shortly Afterwards
When Megan visited her husband’s office with his favorite lunch to surprise him, she learned a startling secret from his receptionist. Megan found out that her husband had been telling everyone she’s merely his kid’s nanny, allowing him to act freely at work.
Recently, I discovered that my husband has been telling everyone that I am merely his child’s nanny, one he keeps out of pity.
What?
It was an ordinary day, and I decided to surprise my husband with lunch from his favorite fast food place. We had both been working long hours lately and had little time to connect.
This was my first visit to Ben’s new office, and I was excited about surprising him.
“Hi, honey,” he said, answering his phone as I parked the car. “I’m just on a call; I’ll be done soon.”
I didn’t really want to talk to him; I just wanted to make sure he was there.
I got out of the car, grabbed the takeout bag, feeling a thrill. When Ben and I were first married, we often surprised each other at work or met up spontaneously.
It was the spark that kept our marriage alive.
Ben’s office was sleek and modern. I walked in, and a friendly receptionist greeted me with a bright smile.
“Good afternoon!” she said. “You’re Mr. Link’s nanny, right? Is something wrong with the kids? Should I buzz him, or do you want to go straight up?”
I nearly dropped the bag of food.
“Excuse me?” I asked, my heart racing.
The receptionist looked puzzled, as if unsure if she’d misspoken or if I hadn’t heard her right.
“Aren’t you Mr. Link’s nanny?” she repeated, her smile fading.
I took a deep breath, trying to process her words.
“No, I’m not the nanny,” I said. “I’m his wife, Mrs. Megan Link.”
Her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly looked around to ensure no one else was listening.
“Oh my God,” she said. “I am so sorry! I had no idea! Please, come with me.”
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