Patricia had always meddled in my relationship with Ethan, treating me like an intruder in her son’s life. From flowers to food to my wedding dress, she criticized every choice, reminding me that I’d never quite measure up. I usually bit my tongue — until the wedding day.
She showed up in a white, lace, bridal-style gown, clung to Ethan like she was the one getting married, and even shoved a chair between us at the reception. Ethan brushed it off with a shrug, but I’d had enough. Smiling sweetly, I pretended to give in — while secretly changing the cake topper to feature Ethan and his mother arm-in-arm.
When the cake rolled out, the room erupted in laughter. Patricia turned scarlet, hissing at me, but I only reminded her, “Isn’t this what you’ve wanted all along — to be the most important woman in his life?”
I left my own reception with my bridesmaids, champagne in hand, realizing the truth: this marriage was already over. The annulment would come soon, but I was done playing second place.
