I’m Susan, 51, and my daughter Chloe’s engagement was a moment of pure joy. When she called, shouting, “Mom, Ryan proposed!” I knew it was coming—they’d been inseparable for five years, or so I thought. Wedding planning became our world, and Chloe’s dress was the heart of it. She wanted a custom gown, made just for her. My friend Laura, a talented seamstress, took on the task. “Chloe will glow,” Laura promised. Months later, the ivory gown with lace details was Chloe’s childhood dream brought to life.
The night before the wedding, Ryan was off. Normally warm, he was distant, avoiding Chloe’s eyes. “You okay?” I asked. He nodded, “Just nerves.” I let it go, but unease settled in. The next morning, our home buzzed—bridesmaids chatting, makeup brushes dancing. Chloe shone in her mirror. Laura arrived with a dress box, beaming. “It’s here!” I opened it, expecting elegance, but saw a deep black gown. My breath caught. “Laura, what is this?” She squeezed my arm. “It’s okay.” Chloe, serene, said, “I need this, Mom.” My heart pounded. “Chloe, it’s your wedding!”
She held my hand, firm. “I know.” Laura guided me to my seat as music started. The venue was radiant with lilies and candles, guests whispering happily. Then Chloe entered, cloaked in black, her veil dark. Gasps spread. “What’s she wearing?” someone murmured. Ryan’s face paled, his hands dropping. I recalled a film we’d seen, where a betrayed bride wore black to grieve her love. Chloe’s intent was clear. At the altar, Ryan mumbled, “What’s going on?” Chloe stood tall, silent. The officiant hesitated but proceeded.
Ryan’s vows promised devotion, voice wavering. Chloe stepped back, her voice steady. “This dress mourns our love, Ryan, because true love doesn’t cheat days before our day.” Whispers erupted. “He did what?” someone gasped. Ryan pleaded, “Chloe, please!” but she was resolute. She dropped her bouquet, walked away, and took my hand. Outside, she confessed, “I saw his texts three days ago.” I held her tight. “You were so brave,” I said. She smiled faintly. “I’ll wear white for real love someday.” Her strength was radiant. Share this tale—it might lift someone’s spirit.
