It was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. Six years of dating, and Michael had finally proposed. I had spent months planning every little detail—every flower, every song, every moment. I was about to marry the love of my life in the church we’d both dreamed about since we were kids. I had picked out the perfect dress, the perfect shoes, the perfect everything. Nothing could go wrong.
Or so I thought.
As I stood in the back room of the church, anxiously waiting for the ceremony to start, I felt a calm sense of joy. The music played softly in the background, and my bridesmaids stood nearby, chatting nervously as we all prepared to walk down the aisle. I could hear the murmurs of guests settling into their seats, and I smiled. This was it.
But then, just as I was about to step forward, there was a knock on the door. I froze.
I hadn’t expected anyone to be here. Everyone was already seated, waiting for the bride. My heart skipped a beat. I opened the door, and there he was—Michael’s brother, Alex.
I was confused. “What are you doing here? The ceremony’s about to start,” I stammered, trying to process the odd interruption.
Before I could finish, he grinned—a grin that sent a chill down my spine. Then, with a sickening laugh, he pulled out a large container and drenched me in cold, sticky liquid.
It splashed across my chest, soaked into the delicate fabric of my dress, and dripped down into my hair, causing it to stick and clump. I gasped in shock, my body frozen in disbelief as the liquid seeped into every crevice. It was slimy, foul-smelling, and completely unexpected.
Alex just stood there, a cruel smile on his face as he looked me up and down. “You know you deserve it,” he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me in shock, utterly humiliated.
My bridesmaids rushed to me, their eyes wide with horror. One gasped, covering her mouth. “Danica… you’re completely green!” she exclaimed.
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I looked down in a panic. My once-perfect white dress was now stained with a revolting green goo. My skin felt sticky, my hair was matted and unrecognizable, and I couldn’t stop shaking. The wedding I had dreamed of was quickly spiraling into a nightmare.
“Why would he do this?” I whispered, my voice trembling.
One of my bridesmaids, who had been with me through thick and thin, grabbed my arm. “We need to fix this. Now.”
In a flurry of frantic activity, we rushed to the back to assess the damage. The dress—destroyed. My hair—unmanageable. The green liquid had left stains that looked like they’d never come out. My heart ached as I realized that the fairytale wedding I had spent so long preparing for was slipping away in front of me.
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I wanted to cry, to scream, to somehow rewind the last few minutes, but there was no time. We were already running late for the ceremony, and the guests were waiting. There was no way I could go out there looking like this.
But then, as I stood in the back room, feeling utterly defeated, a wave of determination washed over me. I wasn’t going to let Alex, or anyone else, ruin my day. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, and I refused to let it end like this.
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With the help of my bridesmaids, we found a solution. We gathered a few quick supplies—a pair of scissors, a different dress I had packed as a backup, some makeup to salvage what was left of my look—and made it work. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to give me the strength to walk out that door and down the aisle.
When I finally stepped out in front of Michael, his eyes widened in surprise, and then he quickly rushed to my side. His face was filled with concern and shock as he asked what had happened.
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I smiled, despite the pain. “It’s nothing. We’re here, and that’s what matters. I love you.”
As we stood together, exchanging vows, I realized that, no matter what had been thrown my way, nothing could take away the joy of marrying the man I loved. The day hadn’t gone as planned, but in that moment, nothing else mattered.