MY SISTER’S WEDDING DRESS HUNG IN MY CLOSET AND IT WAS ALTERED TO FIT ME.
I stared at the white gown hanging amidst my clothes, a sudden icy grip tightening around my chest. The sheer disbelief made my hands tremble as I reached out, touching the intricate lace. It wasn’t just *a* wedding dress; it was *her* wedding dress, the one Anna had shown me a dozen times. But as I pulled it off the hanger, the fabric felt too familiar in my grasp, and a cold dread spread through my stomach. The altered hem, the perfectly cinched waist – they were *my* measurements, not hers. The zipper pulled smooth, just like my custom fittings.
My phone rang, her name flashing across the screen, and I snatched it up, my voice thin. “Anna, why is your wedding dress in *my* closet right now?” There was a sharp intake of breath on her end, then a nervous, almost defiant laugh. “Oh, that? Mark brought it over for me last night. Said he needed to drop off something, and I just asked him to store it there for a bit.” The lie felt brittle, like dried leaves crunching underfoot.
The air in my room felt thick, suffocating. I pressed the cool, soft silk lining against my cheek, smelling the faint scent of his cologne clinging to the expensive fabric, and a different kind of truth settled in. This wasn’t some last-minute drop-off. He’d helped her hide it here, in the one place she knew I wouldn’t snoop. He knew I’d find it.
My eyes caught something tiny, almost invisible, embroidered inside the bodice. A small, perfect silver ‘M’ stitched painstakingly next to a barely visible ‘A’. My mind screamed.
Then the front door clicked open. Mark was home.
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*“Gotta go,” I choked out, ending the call before Anna could respond. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage. I hung up the phone and gently returned the dress to the closet. I needed to think, to process, to understand. But most of all, I needed to confront them, together.
I heard Mark’s keys jingle as he walked down the hall. He stopped short when he saw me standing in the doorway of my bedroom, my arms crossed, my face a mask of forced calm. “Hey,” he said, his voice too casual, his eyes avoiding mine. “Everything okay?”
“Is it, Mark?” I asked, my voice dangerously low. “Because I just found Anna’s wedding dress in my closet. Altered. To fit me.”
The color drained from his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He glanced towards the kitchen, then back at me, a trapped animal searching for an escape.
“And,” I continued, stepping closer, “I found this.” I pointed to the bodice, the hidden embroidery a damning piece of evidence. “’A’ and ‘M’… you made the dress for me, didn’t you? Before you even started dating Anna.”
His silence was an admission. The truth hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating. Finally, he spoke, his voice a low, desperate plea. “Please, just let me explain.”
“Explain what, Mark? Explain how you were secretly in love with me while you were dating my sister? Explain how you let her plan her wedding, knowing it was a lie?” My voice broke, the pain finally cracking through the facade.
He reached for me, but I recoiled. “Don’t touch me. Just tell me the truth. How long has this been going on?”
He looked down, shame etched on his face. “It started before Anna and I even got together. We worked on the dress together. She saw it as a project, a way to bond… I couldn’t tell her it was for you, that I had fallen in love with you from afar.”
My head swam. “And after you started dating Anna? How could you do that? To both of us?”
“I tried to move on, I really did. Anna is… wonderful. But I could never forget you. That dress… it was a reminder of a dream I couldn’t let go of. When Anna asked you to be her maid of honor, I felt sick to my stomach, seeing you stand up there for her when I knew…” He trailed off, unable to meet my gaze.
A wave of anger washed over me. I grabbed the dress from the closet, the silk suddenly feeling like sandpaper against my skin. “Get out, Mark. Just get out. And take your dress with you.”
He didn’t argue. He picked up the gown, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing, and walked out of the apartment. I stood there, trembling, the silence broken only by my own ragged breathing.
I picked up my phone and dialed Anna’s number. This time, I needed to be the one to tell her the truth, to protect her from any more lies. The road ahead would be painful, filled with broken promises and shattered dreams, but it was a road that needed to be walked.
I knew that our relationship would be changed forever. I had to decide what was more important to me, my relationship with my sister or the feelings I have with Mark.