But the night before the wedding, something felt off. Jack, usually polite and composed, seemed distant. His answers were short, his smile strained.
“You okay?” I asked him when Jane stepped away for a moment.
“Yeah, just a little nervous,” he replied, but something in his eyes told me it was more than that.
The next morning, the house was buzzing with activity—makeup artists, bridesmaids rushing in and out, Jane glowing in front of the mirror. Then, Helen arrived with the dress.
I couldn’t wait to see it again. I grinned, lifting the lid of the box.
But when I saw it, my stomach dropped. The dress was black. Not ivory, not white—black. My hands trembled, my throat went dry.
“Helen, what is this?” I whispered, unable to believe my eyes.
Helen, calm as ever, placed her hand over mine. “Trust me, honey,” she said softly.
I turned to Jane, expecting confusion or shock, but she was staring at herself in the mirror as if nothing was wrong.
“Jane?” I called, my voice cracking. “What’s going on?”
She looked at me, her face calm. “I need to do this, Mom.”
I felt my heart tighten. “Do what? Walk down the aisle in a—Jane, this isn’t a joke! This is your wedding!”
She squeezed my hand. “I know.”
Helen touched my shoulder gently. “You need to take your seat.”
I couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t right. But the music started, and before I knew it, Jane was standing in her black dress, walking down the aisle.
The venue was stunning. Rows of ivory roses lined the aisle, candlelight flickered against grand chandeliers, and the soft melody of a string quartet filled the air. Guests whispered excitedly, assuming the wedding was proceeding as planned.
But they didn’t know. None of them did.
Then the music changed, and the doors creaked open. A hush fell over the room. Jane stepped into view, draped in black. Gasps rippled through the crowd.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.
She walked slowly, the black train sweeping across the white petals. Her veil was dark, but I could still see her face—calm, steady, and determined. Jack’s smile faded when he saw her, his face turning pale. His hands, once confidently clasped, now hung limply by his sides. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
I knew then. I remembered a story Jane and I had read together years ago—a woman who, upon realizing her engagement was not what she thought, chose to walk down the aisle in black. A symbol of mourning for what she had believed was true.
That’s what Jane was doing.
The officiant hesitated, glancing nervously between the two. “W-We are gathered here today to witness the union of—”
Jack, his voice uncertain, forced a chuckle. “Babe, what is this? What’s with the dress?”
Jane didn’t respond.
The officiant looked between them, unsure. “Should we… continue?”
“Yes. Let’s continue,” Jane said calmly.
The ceremony proceeded, but no one was really listening. All eyes were on Jane. Then it was time for the vows.
Jack took a deep breath and reached for Jane’s hands. She didn’t pull away. His nervous smile returned as he began, his voice growing stronger with each word. “Jane, from the moment I met you, I knew you were the one. You’re my best friend, my soulmate. I promise to love you, to honor you, to stand by your side through anything. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”
But Jane didn’t seem moved. She let go of his hands, and the room went silent.
With a deep breath, she lifted her chin and looked Jack directly in the eye. “With this dress,” she said, her voice steady, “I acknowledge that sometimes things don’t go as planned, and I choose to embrace my future on my own terms.”
A collective murmur filled the room.
Jack’s face drained of color. “Jane—wait—”
She shook her head gently. “Some things can’t be undone.”
Jack looked at her, searching for an answer, but Jane had already made her decision. She lifted her bouquet and let it slip from her fingers, the flowers falling to the floor. A final goodbye.
She turned and walked away, and I was on my feet before I knew it. My heart raced. I wanted to ask her what happened, to help her through the moment, but before I could speak, she took my hand.
We walked out of the venue, and the whispers behind us faded into the distance. The heavy doors shut with a final thud. Jane never looked back.
Outside, the cool air greeted us. The commotion inside was muffled, but I knew the guests were still processing what had happened.
“Sweetheart,” I said softly.
She exhaled, her shoulders rising and falling. “I made the right choice,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.
“Are you okay?” I asked, squeezing her hand.
Jane gave a small, sad smile. “I will be.”
Tears stung my eyes. “You’re strong.”
She looked up at the sky, blinking fast. “One day, I’ll wear white,” she said softly. “For the right reasons.”
And I knew she would.