Jenna is ᴅᴇᴠᴀsᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ and confused when she discovers her gorgeous wedding gown has been ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇᴅ by burn marks just days before the big day. Her search for answers uncovers a devastating betrayal that alters everything. Her next move is to teach him a lesson.
I never expected to be one of those brides who cried over a dress. But there I was, standing in front of the mirror at Bella’s Bridal, hands clamped over my mouth, trying not to smear my mascara as tears welled up in my eyes.
“Oh, honey,” my mom said, squeezing my shoulder. “You look absolutely beautiful.”
I stroked my hands over the delicately beaded lace bodice, admiring how it fit my curves perfectly before flowing into a gorgeous tulle skirt. It was beautiful, just what I had imagined myself wearing when I married Adam.
“This is it,” I breathed, spinning around to face my mother. “This is the one.”
Fast forward a week, and I was still on cloud nine. I had hung the dress in the guest room closet, carefully zipped up in its garment bag, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking at it whenever I had the chance.
“You’re obsessed,” Adam teased me one night when I returned from yet another visit to my dress.
I flopped onto the couch beside him, grinning. “Can you blame me? In three weeks, I get to wear that dress and marry you. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”
Adam grabbed me close and kissed my forehead. “I’m the lucky one,” he mumbled.
If only I’d understood how rapidly my world was about to crumble down.
It occurred on a Tuesday morning. I remember because I had the day off from work and was preparing to finalize some wedding details. I virtually jumped into the guest room, eager for my daily dose of bridal dress delight.
But as I opened the closet door, my heart stopped.
At first, I was unable to comprehend what I was witnessing. The garment bag was opened, and there was my dress, but it seemed… off.
As I reached out with shaky hands to touch the cloth, I noticed the large, unsightly burn marks that scarred the lovely lace and beading.
My legs gave out, and I collapsed on the floor, a strangled sob escaping my voice. This cannot be happening. It had to be a nightmare. I grabbed for my phone and dialed my mother’s number through a blur of tears.
“Mom,” I blurted out when she responded. “The dress… it’s ruined.”
“What? Jenna, slow down. What happened?”
I attempted to explain between weeping, but nothing made sense. How could this have occurred? The dress had been gorgeous yesterday.
“I’m coming over,” Mom said firmly. “Just sit tight, honey. We’ll figure this out.”
I hung up and immediately called Adam. He responded on the second ring, his voice upbeat. “Hey, babe! “What’s up?”
“Adam,” I said, my voice breaking. “Something terrible has happened.”
Even over the phone, his surprise as I described the garment was palpable.
“That’s impossible,” he said. “How could that happen? Are you sure it wasn’t some kind of accident? Maybe there’s an issue with the house wiring or something?”
His suggestion seemed ludicrous, but I was too distressed to argue. “I don’t know,” I responded sadly. “Can you come home?”
“I’ve got a big meeting I can’t reschedule,” he said, sounding genuinely regretful. “But I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay? Try not to worry. We’ll sort this out.”
As I hung up, a nagging feeling settled in my gut. Something about the entire event felt… odd. And I was determined to figure out what it was.
My mother arrived within an hour, and we both examined the clothing, trying to make sense of the damage.
“It looks like it was done with an iron,” she said, her brow furrowed. “But who would do such a thing?”
I shook my head, feeling sick. “I don’t know. The only people who’ve been here recently are you and Jason.”
Jason was Adam’s best friend. He’d stopped by a few days ago to drop off some wedding planning stuff. But surely he wouldn’t…
“Let’s check the security cameras,” Mom suggested. “Maybe they caught something.”
I had forgotten about the cameras Adam had put a few months ago. With shaky hands, I opened the app on my phone and began scrolling through the recording.
Then I saw it.
My heart stopped as I saw Adam — my Adam — enter the guest room with an iron in his hand. He appeared calm and deliberate as he unzipped the garment bag and pushed the hot iron to my dress.
“Oh my God,” I said quietly, dropping the phone. Mom snatched it up, her face pale as she observed.
“Jenna,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry. What… why would he do this?”
But I didn’t have an answer for that inquiry. The remainder of the day was a blur. I cancelled my appointments, dismissing anxious messages from friends and family. I couldn’t stomach explaining what had happened because I barely understood it myself.
When Adam eventually arrived home, I was waiting for him in the living room.
The damaged dress lay on the coffee table between us.
His face became white when he saw my expression. “Jenna, I can explain—”
“Explain?” I cut him off, my voice shaking with rage. “Explain how you deliberately destroyed my wedding dress? How you lied to me?”
“It’s not what you think,” he pleaded. “Jason… he told me things. About you and your ex. He said you were meeting up, that you were having doubts about us.”
I stared at him, disbelief mixed with wrath. “And you believed him? After five years together, you thought I’d cheat on you?”
Adam’s shoulders slumped. “He suggested… he said if I ruined the dress, your reaction would show how much you really cared about the wedding. About me.”
“So you decided to test me?” I spat. “By destroying my dream dress?”
Adam was crying now. “I’m so sorry, Jenna. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please, we can fix this. We can get you a new dress—”
“A new dress?” I laughed bitterly. “You think this is about the dress? You betrayed me, Adam. You let your jealousy and insecurity destroy everything we had.”
At that point, gazing at the man I thought I knew, I realized something. The outfit was not the only item that had been irreversibly destroyed.
“The wedding’s off,” I said quietly. “I can’t marry someone who doesn’t trust me.”
Adam’s pleas faded into background noise as I exited the room, the house, and the life we had planned together.
The next few days were filled with cancellations and explanations. My friends rallied around me, offering comfort and a shoulder to cry on. But, when the initial sh0ck subsided, another emotion emerged: rage.
Not just Adam, but also Jason. The more I thought about it, the more I knew he was at the center of it all. He had twisted Adam, fed him lies, and eventually wrecked our relationship.
And for what? Jealousy? Boredom? Whatever his reasoning, I knew I couldn’t allow him get away with it.
It took some digging, but I eventually located what I was looking for. Proof that Jason had been cheating on his serious girlfriend, Sophie, for several months. Dates, locations, and even a few incriminating images from a mutual acquaintance who saw him out with another woman.
I spent days debating what to do with this information. Part of me wanted to confront Jason personally, to see his expression when he knew his game was up. But in the end, I chose a different, more ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ strategy.
I set up an anonymous email account and emailed everything to Sophie. There is no commentary or allegations, only facts and data to back them up.
The fallout was spectacular.
Sophie publically dumped Jason and called him out on social media for his infidelity. Their friends were quick to take sides, with the majority rallying around Sophie. Jason’s reputation, which had been meticulously cultivated over the years, disintegrated in a couple of days.
I watched everything unfold from a distance, feeling grimly satisfied.
It wasn’t until I saw Adam at a coffee shop a few weeks later that I realized how bad things had gotten.
“I heard about Jason,” I said, after an awkward greeting.
Adam nodded, looking tired. “Yeah. Turns out he’d been lying to a lot of people, not just me. I… I’m so sorry, Jenna. For everything.”
I looked at him for a second. The wrath I’d been ke
eping in for weeks appeared to fade, leaving just a deep pain of what could have been.
“I accept your apology. I’m sorry too,” I said finally. “Not for what I did, but for what we lost.”
As I went away, I felt lighter. The dress, the wedding, and the betrayal were all behind me now. I couldn’t anticipate the future ahead of me, but it was wholly my own.
For the first time in weeks, I smiled.
