The Wedding She Stole
Weddings are supposed to be magical, right? A day filled with laughter, love, and promises that last a lifetime. That’s what I imagined mine would be — the perfect celebration of a new beginning with Adam.
But instead, my daughter Amanda turned it into a nightmare.
It all started with traffic. Of course.
Adam and I were in the limousine, crawling along the freeway, surrounded by endless red brake lights. Some truck had overturned miles ahead, and everything was at a standstill.
We were calm at first — after all, we’d both been married before, and seeing each other before the ceremony didn’t bother us much anymore.
“Time, please, Ben?” I asked through the intercom.
Our driver, Ben, sounded apologetic. “It’s hard to say, Mabel. But don’t worry, I’ll get you and Adam down that aisle, even if I have to drive on the shoulder!”
Adam chuckled softly but then sighed, tapping his fingers against his knee. “Love, call Amanda. Tell her to handle the guests and get the band started. No one likes waiting.”
I nodded and dialed my daughter’s number. She picked up almost instantly.
“Hey, sweetie,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “We’re stuck in traffic because of an accident. Everything’s at a standstill. Can you make sure things are running smoothly at the venue? We’ll be about thirty minutes late. Maybe get the band playing?”
“Of course, Mommy!” Amanda’s voice was sugary sweet. “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ve got this handled. You two just get here safely!”
Her confidence was comforting… at least for the next ten minutes.
Then my phone rang again. It was my sister, Jess — and she sounded panicked.
“Sis, you have to come here now! It’s Amanda, she—” The line crackled and went dead before she could finish.
My stomach dropped. “She what?” I muttered, calling back, but it went straight to voicemail.
Adam glanced at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Jess said something about Amanda but didn’t finish. The call cut off.”
He groaned. “Oh, honey, she probably just picked up the microphone and started singing with the band or something.”
I hoped he was right.
But when the limousine finally pulled up to the venue half an hour later, what I saw nearly stopped my heart.
There was Amanda — standing on the steps, holding a bouquet of ivory roses, wearing a wedding dress. Not a random white gown. A wedding dress.
Photographers swarmed her, cameras flashing as she smiled and posed like a celebrity. And beside her was her boyfriend Kyle, looking as lost as a puppy, sweating in a suit that clearly wasn’t his choice.
I stormed up the stairs, my heels clicking like thunder.
“What the hell is going on?!” I shouted.
Amanda turned, all bright-eyed and bubbly. “Oh, Mommy! I’m so sad you missed the ceremony! It was lovely!”
I blinked, my jaw dropping. “My ceremony? You mean—you had my ceremony? Amanda, are you out of your mind?!”
She shrugged innocently, brushing off her dress. “Well, you were late. Everything was already set up, and the officiant was in a hurry. You know how I hate waiting. So… I married Kyle!”
I could feel my pulse pounding in my ears. My dream wedding — months of planning — had been hijacked by my own daughter.
“You’ll get married another day!” she chirped. “Now, Kyle and I are going to do the final walk to the reception. The guests are ready to throw rice and confetti. Do you want to join?”
I stood frozen, rage and disbelief tangling inside me.
Adam came up beside me, his jaw clenched. “Say the word, Mabel,” he whispered. “Say the word and I’ll shut this whole circus down.”
I looked at Amanda, my beautiful, selfish daughter, smiling like nothing was wrong. My heart ached — not from anger, but from disappointment so deep it hurt to breathe.
“No,” I said softly. “She’s still my daughter. Don’t. She’ll learn her lesson another way.”
The reception that followed was pure chaos. Amanda strutted through the room like a queen, greeting guests as if she had planned the entire event. People whispered everywhere.
“Mabel,” Aunt Joy said, clutching her pearls, “we thought it was your wedding, dear! What happened? When did Amanda even get engaged?”
“I don’t know, Aunt Joy,” I sighed. “I’m just as shocked as you are.”
Then, as if to twist the knife deeper, Amanda cut the wedding cake Adam and I had ordered — the one with delicate sugar flowers designed to match my dress.
My sister Jess pulled me aside, her face red with fury. “That daughter of yours snatched my phone mid-call and locked me in the bathroom during the ceremony! I couldn’t even warn you! Why didn’t you stop her when you got here?”
“Because,” I said, smiling faintly, “revenge is best served cold.”
Two days later, it was time for dessert — the sweet kind of payback.
That night after the reception, Amanda knocked on our hotel door, all smiles.
“So,” she said, leaning casually against the cupboard, “Kyle and I need your tickets to Chile for the honeymoon. No point in them going to waste, right?”
Adam nearly choked on his drink. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.
But I smiled sweetly. “Of course, honey. You can have them. You two deserve some fun.”
Amanda squealed, hugged me tight, stole a strawberry off the plate, and left in a swirl of perfume.
Adam turned to me, utterly baffled. “Mabel, she’s taking our honeymoon too?! Why are you letting her get away with this?”
“Trust me,” I said. “She’s going to learn her lesson in about forty-eight hours.”
And oh, she did.
Two mornings later, my phone rang. Amanda was screaming before I even said hello.
“Mom! How could you do this to me?!”
I smiled into the receiver. “Amanda, darling, what’s wrong?”
“Wrong? You sent us to the Arctic! We’re freezing! There’s snow everywhere and no beaches, no resorts — nothing!”
I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. The tickets she took were for Chile, yes — but only the layover. Our real destination was an Arctic cruise expedition. Icebergs, glaciers, polar bears — it was our dream trip.
Amanda? She hated the cold.
“You asked for the tickets, Amanda,” I said sweetly.
“But what do I do now?” she cried.
“You’re a married woman now. Figure it out.”
She hung up, muttering curses loud enough to make me grin.
A week later, Jess and my closest friends surprised Adam and me with a second wedding — a small, beautiful celebration in Jess’s backyard. It was intimate, filled with laughter, and perfect.
And this time, Amanda wasn’t invited.
To top it off, every single wedding gift from the original event went to us — brand-new espresso machine, luxury linens, and even an all-expenses-paid spa trip from Adam’s brother.
When Amanda found out, she exploded.
“Mom! You stole my wedding gifts!” she yelled over the phone. “They were supposed to stay at the venue until I came back!”
“Your gifts?” I laughed. “Sweetheart, you stole my wedding. Consider this fair trade.”
Adam nearly dropped his espresso cup from laughing so hard.
As for Amanda and Kyle — word is, their marriage is already falling apart. Jess told me later that Kyle looked miserable during the ceremony. I wasn’t surprised.
“That boy’s in for a rough ride,” Jess said as we sipped tea together a few days later.
Amanda might have stolen my fairy-tale wedding, but karma got the final say.
Adam and I still went on our Arctic honeymoon later — and it was breathtaking. The cold wind, the glowing icebergs, the quiet peace of it all… it reminded me that sometimes, the universe has its own way of balancing the scales.
Amanda learned her lesson the hard way — that selfishness and entitlement come with a cost.
And me? I learned something too. Revenge doesn’t always need yelling or fighting. Sometimes, you just let karma do the work — and it’s so much sweeter that way.