What if she has a seizure during the vows?
That’s hardly the picture-perfect moment you’re hoping for.”
My jaw tightened so hard I thought my teeth might crack.
“Maya is my maid of honor.
That’s not going to change.”
“Then you’ll need to change the venue. If you get married somewhere outdoors, then I won’t have to breathe in dog allergens in an enclosed space.” Her voice dropped lower, and she leaned forward.
“I could have a serious asthma attack, you know.
I could even die.”
Andrew shook his head. “Unfortunately, that’s not something we can do at this point. The wedding is right around the corner, and we’d never be able to get a new venue now.”
I tried to steer things back to reason.
I suggested air purifiers, separate seating arrangements, and even a breakout space for Talia.
Honestly, none of them were great suggestions, but since Talia’s dog allergy was questionable, I figured it would be good enough to satisfy her.
Talia threw her arms up like I’d just suggested she walk across hot coals.
“You’ve clearly decided that the dog is more important than me.” She stood and grabbed her bag. “I can’t believe you two.
I thought we were family.”
She stormed out. Andrew and I sat there, watching her leave in stunned silence.
“What just happened?” he finally asked.
“I’m not sure.” I turned to Andrew.
“Could we have been more considerate?
I don’t want to exclude anyone, but Maya is my maid of honor. She has to be at the wedding, and Echo has to be there with her. No offence to Talia, but she’s just a normal guest.”
Andrew shrugged.
We both just wanted everyone to enjoy our special day.
We had no idea how that conversation with Talia would snowball.
We’d barely arrived home when my phone started buzzing. First, a text from Andrew’s mom.
“Talia said you don’t care if she has an allergic reaction at your wedding!
Are you serious?”
Then the cousins chimed in, followed by the aunts. It seemed like everyone suddenly had opinions about my wedding.
“Is it true you’re risking someone’s life for a dog?”
“How could you be so selfish?”
My hands shook as I scrolled through the messages.
It wasn’t until I’d read through them all that I noticed the social media notification.
Talia had posted online.
There was a selfie taken in a public restroom of Talia looking sadly in the mirror as she dabbed at her eyes. The caption said: “Some brides are willing to risk lives for photo ops.”
The family started dividing like we were picking teams for dodgeball.
Andrew’s mom went full Team Talia. Brandon, surprisingly, stayed silent.
Everyone else just watched and waited to see which side would win.
I felt sick, but the worst was yet to come.
One week before the wedding, Andrew and I drove to the venue for our final walkthrough.
I was clutching my binder with all the details: seating charts, timeline, and the playlist we’d agonized over for weeks.
The receptionist looked up when we walked in. Her smile quickly turned to a confused frown.
“I thought you canceled?”
My heart dropped into my stomach.
“What are you talking about?”
She pulled up her computer screen. “You called two days ago.
Said there’d been a death in the family.
We rebooked the date.”
The room started spinning. “I’m sorry, who did you say called?”
“It was a woman,” the receptionist said. “She said she was you.”
Back home, Andrew posted a message in the family group chat: “There’s been a mix-up with the venue.
We’re trying to figure it out and will keep you all posted.”
Minutes later, Talia replied.
I’ll never forget the message; it practically glowed with smugness.
“Hey guys! In light of the venue mix-up, I took the liberty of reserving something much more appropriate for your wedding.
It’s outdoors, so nobody has to deal with dander and drool. You’ll just need to cover a late fee.
It’s a bit premium, but hey, weddings only happen once, right?”
I held up my phone to show Andrew the message.
His jaw clenched.
“Convenient, huh?” I said.
“But we can’t prove she canceled the venue,” Andrew replied.
“We don’t need to,” I replied. “I’m done.”
I tossed my phone onto the bed. Then I turned to Andrew and took his hands in mine, knowing this was the moment everything had to change.
“Andrew, honey, the most important part of the wedding is us, right?
Our love and our commitment to each other?”
He nodded.
“Right.”
“Then let’s cut the drama out of the picture.”
“Do whatever you think is best.”
I picked up my phone and started typing. My hands trembled, but I wasn’t going to risk any more sabotage.
“Due to a deliberate act of sabotage, our venue was canceled without our consent.
We are still getting married, but we now have to scale down. Unfortunately, that means this is now a private event.
To prevent any further sabotage, we will only be sharing the location with those who will be attending the wedding.”
I hit send.
Both of our phones exploded with message notifications and incoming calls.
Talia sent 20 texts in a row.
One of them said, “I was trying to help! If you’d just compromised, none of this would’ve happened!”
Andrew’s mom called, screaming about how we shouldn’t dare to exclude them.
I turned my phone off and set it on my nightstand. Andrew did the same, then he poured us each a glass of wine, and we sat down on the couch.
“There’s just one problem with all of this,” Andrew said.
“We still don’t have a venue.”
“I think I know someone who can help us out.”
One week later, snow blanketed the ground like frosting.
I’d asked my aunt if we could use her estate for our scaled-down wedding, and she’d agreed.
Maya walked down the aisle ahead of me. Echo was at her side, wearing a floral bandana that matched her dress.
When we hugged, Maya whispered, “Thank you for fighting for me.”
“Always,” I whispered back.
Share this story with your friends.
It might inspire them and brighten their day.
