My stepmom Linda has always been a bit of a diva. Ever since she married my dad when I was ten, she somehow made every family occasion about herself. From birthdays to graduations to holiday dinners, Linda never missed a chance to be the center of attention.

So, deep down, I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised when she pulled the ultimate stunt at my wedding—showing up in a full-length white gown. Leading up to the wedding, Linda had already been dropping little hints that made me uneasy. She would say things like, “Don’t you think I should have a special role in the ceremony?” with a flutter of her lashes and that overly sweet tone that always meant trouble. I tried to brush it off as typical Linda behavior, hoping she’d find a less dramatic way to make her presence known.

But I underestimated her flair for theatrics. On the big day, I was in the bridal suite with my maid of honor, Sarah, enjoying the final moments of calm before walking down the aisle. That’s when Sarah rushed in, looking like she’d just seen a ghost. She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the window without saying a word. When I looked outside, my jaw dropped. There was Linda, stepping out of her car like she was walking a red carpet, wearing a white beaded wedding dress that sparkled in the sun. My heart sank.

This wasn’t just her being extra—this was her outright trying to outshine me on my own wedding day. Furious, I marched outside to confront her. “Linda, are you serious? You can’t wear white to my wedding!” I snapped. She gave me a smug smile and said, “I just wanted to feel like a bride again. White suits me, and I deserve to be celebrated too.” I couldn’t believe the audacity. “This is my day, not yours,” I said, trying to hold back tears. Just then, Tom, my fiancé, appeared beside me. He calmly took my hand and whispered, “Let me handle this.” His voice was steady, and there was a mischievous sparkle in his eye that gave me just enough reassurance to let him take the lead. Tom walked over to Linda and said, “Wow, Linda, you look stunning. Really, that dress is something else. But since this is Anna’s wedding, we definitely don’t want any confusion about who the bride is, right?

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” Linda blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Well, I mean, of course not, but—” Tom smoothly cut her off. “Exactly. That’s why I have an idea to make sure you stand out in your own way.” He called over one of the event staff and whispered something to them. A few minutes later, a waiter approached Linda holding a giant glass of red wine. With a perfectly timed stumble, he spilled the entire thing down the front of her gleaming white dress. Linda gasped so loudly that people turned to look. “Oh no, Linda! I’m so sorry!” Tom said with mock concern, though there was not the slightest trace of actual remorse on his face. “But hey, that red really brings out your complexion—it’s bold, dramatic, and absolutely unforgettable. Just like you!” Linda was speechless, clutching the ruined fabric and sputtering as she tried to clean it. Tom gently added, “There’s a boutique just a block away. Maybe they can help you find something more fitting—in a different color, of course.” She stormed off in a huff, and by the time she returned, she was wearing a pastel dress that blended in much better with the rest of the guests. The ceremony went off without another hitch, and everyone, including me, breathed a little easier. Later that evening, while Tom and I were dancing at the reception, I leaned in and whispered, “Remind me to thank you properly for saving the day.” He smiled and said, “Anything for my bride.” Linda may have come in determined to steal the spotlight, but thanks to Tom’s quick thinking and smooth delivery, our wedding stayed exactly what it was meant to be—ours.