My name’s Ellie, I’m 27, and I thought my wedding would be simple — just me, my fiancé Evan, and the people who mattered most. No drama, no chaos, just love. But then my dad’s girlfriend, Janine, decided to turn it into her personal stage. What she didn’t know? I had a plan — one she’d never see coming.
Evan and I had been together six years. He’s thoughtful, patient, the kind of man who brings me coffee in bed “just because.” We’re simple people — hiking, dogs, slow mornings. So our wedding reflected us: an outdoor ceremony under oak trees at my aunt’s farm, barbecue instead of catering, fairy lights strung between branches. Warmth over spectacle.
Then there was Janine.
She’s 42, glamorous, and thrives on attention. She’s been with my dad for two years, and she has a way of hijacking moments that aren’t hers. When we got engaged, she blurted it out to family during brunch: “Oh, didn’t Ellie tell you? She’s engaged!” I smiled through it, Evan squeezed my hand and whispered, “She can’t ruin what’s yours.”
But she tried again. One night at dinner, she proudly announced she’d already found her wedding dress. Ivory. A full-length, beaded mermaid gown — literally a bride’s gown. “Don’t be dramatic,” she said. “No one will mistake me for the bride.” My sister Chloe almost spit out her wine; my dad looked away.
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