When Jess and Michael got engaged, her cousin Sarah offered to sew her wedding dress as a gift. But at the final fitting, Jess discovered a shocking problem: the dress was two sizes too small. Would Sarah fix her mistake, or would Jess have to take matters into her own hands?
My cousin Sarah and I had always had a bit of a complicated relationship. Sarah, being the outgoing and attention-loving type, often basked in the spotlight our family naturally gave her. Over the years, it just seemed easier for the rest of us to let her have that attention.
But when Michael and I got engaged after four years together, it felt like my moment to shine. Surprisingly, Sarah rallied the family, organizing a girls’ night out in my honor, bringing together all our cousins and my close friends for a celebration.
During the party, Sarah approached me, champagne glass in hand, with an idea that caught me off guard.
“Jess! I have the best idea!” she exclaimed, swaying slightly to the music.
I smiled, intrigued. “What is it?”
“I want to make your wedding dress!” she announced excitedly.
A little taken aback, I hesitated. Sarah was a talented seamstress, having created stunning outfits in the past, but our relationship made me unsure about accepting. Still, her offer felt sincere, and the idea of a handmade dress from family was touching.
“Really? You’d do that for me?” I asked, genuinely moved.
“Of course! It’ll be perfect!” she beamed, and for the rest of the night, the celebration continued with laughter, dancing, and shared excitement about my upcoming wedding.
Weeks passed as Sarah and I worked together, picking the perfect design and fabrics for the dress. I trusted her with my vision, and everything seemed on track as we moved closer to the big day.
Finally, the day came for my final fitting. I was eager to see the dress in all its glory. But when I tried it on, something was terribly wrong—it didn’t fit. Not even close. The dress was at least two sizes too small, and I couldn’t even zip it up.
“Jess, did you gain weight before the wedding?” Sarah asked, her voice dripping with mock concern.
I froze. I hadn’t gained any weight. In fact, I’d been so stressed that I’d barely been eating.
“No, Sarah,” I said, my heart sinking. “I’ve been under so much pressure that if anything, I’ve lost weight.”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Well, I’ll try to fix it, but I’m swamped with other clients. I can’t promise anything.”
As I drove home, her dismissive attitude gnawed at me. This wasn’t an innocent mistake. The way she’d spoken to me, the subtle smirk—it all clicked. Sarah had done this on purpose.
That night, I confided in Michael, heartbroken.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.
“Let’s take it to Mrs. Lawson,” Michael suggested. “She’s a friend of my mom’s, and she’s a miracle worker with alterations.”
So, the next day, I took the ill-fitting dress to Mrs. Lawson, a retired seamstress known for fixing even the toughest of fashion disasters.
“Oh, honey,” she said, looking over the dress. “We’ll make this work.”
And work, she did. Together, we redesigned the dress into a short, stylish cocktail number—bold, fun, and totally me. It was nothing like the dress Sarah had made, but it was perfect.
On the day of the wedding, as I stood in front of the mirror in my transformed gown, I felt incredible. My father’s reaction when he saw me was priceless.
“You look beautiful,” he said, beaming with pride.
As I walked down the aisle, the soft music filled the air, and heads turned. I could feel the admiration of everyone in the room, but it was Michael’s face that caught my attention. His eyes widened, and his smile grew, telling me everything I needed to know. He was falling in love with me all over again.
But before I reached him, I glanced at Sarah. Her face was pale, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief. She had expected me to be humiliated, wearing the ill-fitting dress she’d sabotaged. Instead, I was glowing with confidence.
The ceremony was perfect, and Michael’s vows brought tears to my eyes. But it was at the reception when Sarah finally approached me.
“Jess, what happened to the dress? Why didn’t you wear my design?” she asked, clearly irritated.
I smiled sweetly. “Well, it didn’t fit, remember? So I took your advice and made it better. Turns out, someone who actually cared about how I looked on my wedding day helped me create something perfect.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but before she could respond, Michael called me for our first dance. I turned away from Sarah, feeling lighter than ever, and joined him on the dance floor.
As we twirled under the soft lights, I knew one thing for sure: I had won in the most important way. Surrounded by love and happiness, Sarah’s pettiness couldn’t touch me.
What would you have done in my place?
