Growing up, my younger sister Sadie always seemed to resent me, so when she asked me to be her maid of honor, I was genuinely thrilled. But nothing could have prepared me for her “prank” with the bridesmaid dress—cleverly planned to catch me off guard. Little did she know, I’d find the perfect way to handle it.
The wedding invitation sat on my kitchen counter, almost mocking me. Sadie, who’d made my life difficult for the past 32 years, wanted me—Nancy, her long-time “rival”—as her maid of honor.
“Is this a joke?” my friend Liz asked when I showed her the invitation.
“Sadie wants me to be her maid of honor,” I said, still stunned.
Liz stared, wide-eyed. “Sadie? The same sister who put gum in your hair at your high school graduation?”
I nodded, running a hand through my now shorter hair, thanks to that “joke” of hers. Despite our rocky past, though, I hoped this wedding would bring us closer as sisters.
Weeks passed with fittings, planning, and the occasional moment of what felt like real sisterly bonding. Sadie seemed softer, even caring. Maybe, just maybe, we were finally turning a corner.
On the wedding day, I arrived early to the bridal suite. Sadie thanked me for coming on time since the other bridesmaids were late. I was ready to step into my role and support her. But when I opened my garment bag, my heart sank—my dress was far too large.
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