My name is Ellie, I’m 27, and this fall I married the love of my life, Evan — the calmest, kindest man I’ve ever known. We’ve been together for six years, and he still brings me coffee in bed on Sundays, sings off-key in the car, and somehow always knows when silence says more than words. Our wedding was meant to reflect that — simple, genuine, and full of warmth. We chose to exchange vows under the trees at my aunt’s farmhouse, surrounded by fairy lights, barbecue, and a bluegrass band. Everything about it was supposed to feel easy and true to us. That was the plan — until my dad’s girlfriend, Janine, got involved.
Janine, 42, works in interior design and has been with my dad for about two years. She’s glamorous, confident, and knows it — the kind of person who enters a room like it’s a runway. At first, I tried to see the best in her. She was outgoing and friendly, maybe just a little too much at times. But soon, her enthusiasm started crossing lines. When Evan and I got engaged, I wanted to tell my family in person. Before I had the chance, Janine announced it at brunch with relatives. “Oh, didn’t Ellie tell you? She and Evan are engaged!” she said brightly, waving off my stunned silence with a laugh. I smiled through it, but that moment stuck with me.
Months later, she crossed another line. At dinner one evening, she announced proudly, “So… I already found my dress for the wedding!” When she turned her phone toward me, my stomach dropped. The gown was white — floor-length, lace, beaded, complete with a train. “Uh… Janine, that’s… white,” I said carefully. She laughed. “Oh, come on! It’s ivory, not white. No one will confuse me for the bride!” My sister nearly choked on her drink. I asked her not to wear something resembling a wedding gown. She waved it off with a smug grin. Then came the real shock. “Your dad showed me a photo of your dress,” she said, smirking. “It’s cute—very boho, very you.”
That night, I barely slept. The next morning, my seamstress called. “Ellie,” she said, “your dad’s partner reached out. She asked if I could make her a dress like yours—only more glamorous.” My heart sank. Janine wasn’t just wearing white — she wanted to outshine me. But I wasn’t about to let her win.