My stepsister, Jade, was getting married and in a bind. She couldn’t find bridesmaid dresses that worked on all six girls. I used to be a seamstress before maternity leave, so she asked me to make them. “I’ll pay you as soon as they’re done,” she promised. I said yes, because she’s family. I wanted to help. I thought it would be a nice gesture, something to contribute to her special day. I worked tirelessly, often through midnight feeds, a crying baby, and sheer exhaustion. There was no upfront payment, so I dipped into our baby fund for fabric. It was a calculated risk. I knew I could trust her to pay me back. Two days before the wedding, I delivered six olive custom-fitted dresses. She barely looked up from her phone. “Meh. They’ll do. Thanks.” I swallowed my annoyance and asked, “So… when can I get reimbursed? I used some of our baby money for fabric, and I’ll need it back soon. Max needs a winter coat.” She laughed, a shrill, dismissive sound that made my blood run cold. “OH, YOU’RE JOKING, RIGHT? THIS IS YOUR GIFT. WHAT ELSE WERE YOU GONNA GIVE ME? A TOASTER? YOU’RE HOME DOING NOTHING ANYWAY.”
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I went home and cried. My husband, Mark, wanted to go off and confront her, but I told him not to. I’d find another way. It wasn’t worth causing a scene right before her wedding. I figured I could pick up some extra shifts, sell some things online, anything to make up for the money I’d spent. It was a hard pill to swallow, but I tried to move on.
At the wedding, the girls looked amazing. My dresses. My work. I watched them from afar, a strange mix of pride and resentment swirling within me. They looked radiant. All that effort, all that time… it did pay off in how beautiful they looked. Except I knew it was all a lie. Jade’s cruelty had tarnished the day for me.
But then, right before the first dance, Jade dragged me into the bathroom, crying hysterically. She grabbed my hands, her eyes wide with panic. She whispered, “Please, I need your help!!! The zipper on my dress is completely broken! I can’t go out there like this!”
I looked at her and a slow smile spread across my face. “Oh, Jade,” I said sweetly. “It seems you need a seamstress. But, unfortunately, I didn’t bring my sewing kit. And besides… I’m here doing nothing, remember? Maybe one of your other bridesmaids can help? After all, you said my dressmaking skills were worthless, basically the same as giving you a toaster. Maybe one of your other ‘more valuable’ friends can come to your rescue.”
