Off The Record
My Dad’s Girlfriend Tried To Steal The Spotlight At My Wedding—But My Comeback Had The Guests Cheering
The white gown my dad’s girlfriend wore to my wedding was disturbingly identical. She was unaware of the final surprise I had planned, which would completely alter the situation.
My name is Ellie, I’m 27, and this September, I’m getting married to Evan, who has been my partner for six years and is the most peaceful, compassionate person I’ve ever met. Even at the age of 29, he still brings me coffee in bed on Sundays, sings terribly in the vehicle, and always seems to know when I simply need a hand to hold and some silence.
We’re not ostentatious. We enjoy hiking with our dog, leisurely mornings, and creating absurd dances in the kitchen. To put it simply, I feel at home with him.
We got married? same feeling. We will not be attending the ballroom or the chandeliers. Rather, we are exchanging vows in my aunt’s farmhouse amid the trees, with a local bluegrass band, barbecue, string lights, and close friends. Everything that feels like us will be there, warm and intimate. No frills, no drama. Or so I believed.
Let’s introduce Janine, my dad’s girlfriend.
She is 42 years old, an interior designer, and has been dating my 55-year-old father for the past two years. She always appears well-groomed at first impression.
She enters a room wearing those heels that click loudly, flowy blouses, and big sunglasses. She is the type of lady who can transform a low-key birthday dinner into a TED Talk about her most recent juice cleanse. She may even be a bit too self-assured.
Janine did more than merely chat during family get-togethers. She gave a performance. She always found herself at the center of attention. I made an effort to ignore it. She was only excited, I assured myself, but gradually, that zeal began to seep into the things that I truly cared about.
similar to last year’s engagement of Evan and me. I wanted to personally tell my family. However, Janine unintentionally revealed the information at a brunch with extended family before I had an opportunity to do so.
“Oh, did you not hear from Ellie? She is engaged to Evan. She laughed as though it didn’t matter.”
I attempted a grin, swallowing my frustration. “Yeah… we were going to tell you all together tonight.”
“Oh no!” Janine let out a gasp. “Sorry! I’m sorry, dear. I simply figured that by now everyone knew about it.”
I sobbed in the car later. Evan just remarked, “It’s still your engagement,” while holding my hand. “You can’t give that to her.”
However, last week? She went too far with it.
We had Sunday dinner at my dad’s house. The regular group was present, including Dad, Janine, Evan, my best buddy, and my 24-year-old sister Chloe, who is hilarious and brutally honest. Red wine, salad, and roasted chicken were served for dinner.
As if it were breaking news, Janine was already in rare form, yelling at Chloe about her Pilates instructor’s cat allergy.
“So… I already found my dress for the wedding!” she exclaimed, clearing her throat dramatically halfway between salad and dessert.
As if she had just created sliced bread, she stated it.
I blinked. “Oh, nice,” was my lighthearted response. “What color did you pick?”
She took out her phone and smiled. “Look here! I’ll show you.”
Still smiling, she turned the screen to face me. I went cold.
It was white.
not only white. It was a mermaid-style, full-length, lace gown with a train and a beaded bodice. A real wedding gown.
I stared at her, perplexed. “Uh… Janine, that’s… white.”
She chuckled. Not the cozy type. The harsh, high-pitched voice she always uses when dismissing someone.
“Oh, hurry up! It’s not white; it’s ivory. Nobody is going to mistake me for the bride.”
After taking a sip of water, Chloe choked so badly that she had to stabilize herself by grabbing Evan’s sleeve.
Unconcerned, Janine continued to smile.
Dad scowled a little but remained silent. He simply gazed at his wine glass. I looked at him, wishing he would say anything at all. He didn’t.
“Janine,” I continued, trying to sound composed, “I would really appreciate it if you didn’t show up at my wedding wearing something that looked like a wedding dress.”
As if I were being foolish, she waved a hand that was immaculately manicured. “You’re overreacting, sweetie. I take it you’re wearing the plain, informal dress? This will appear entirely different.”
My blood ran cold at that.
I bent over. “Wait… how do you know what my dress looks like?”
Her smile was the smug, tight-lipped smile. “When you emailed your dad the design, he sent me a picture. It’s adorable—very bohemian, very you.”
Beside me, Evan straightened his posture. “What the hell…” Chloe whispered to herself.
Stunned, I looked at my dad. “You showed her my dress?”
Dad appeared uneasy. It didn’t seem like a huge deal to me. She merely requested to view it.
My voice was faint as I swallowed hard. “It was significant. I put my trust in you for that.”
As if we weren’t even discussing anything so intimate, Janine continued to smile while taking another bite of salad.
That night, I didn’t sleep well. My chest constricted, and my thoughts kept returning to Janine’s arrogant expression. Mia, the seamstress I had been working with on my custom gown, called me the following morning.
“Hey Ellie,” she replied, a little hesitantly, “I wanted to check in about something… Janine, your dad’s partner, reached out yesterday.”
I took a seat. “She what?”
“Yes, she did want me to design her an outfit like that.” Despite having the same design, she claimed to desire something more “glamorous.”
For a moment, I was unable to speak. “My dress was requested by her.”
She requested the pattern you created. I was at a loss for words. I assured her, “Of course, I’ll check with you.”
The air seemed to have been knocked out of me. Janine was dressed in more than just white. She was attempting to overshadow me. I had spent months designing the dress with Mia, selecting materials, and adding lace accents based on my mother’s wedding pictures. She now desired to take control of it.
After hanging up, I called Chloe right away.
“She’s psychotic,” Chloe declared bluntly. “She wants to be the bride at your wedding.”
“She laughed when I told her not to wear white,” I said, still in shock.
“What did Dad say?”
“Nothing. He simply sat there.”
Chloe let out a sound of disdain. “He did, of course. He permits her to demolish everything.”
I gazed at the waving trees beyond the window. The anger that was seething beneath my skin was palpable.
I said, “I’m not letting her do this,” at last.
Chloe’s tone grew softer. “All right. “What will you do?”
I inhaled. “I’m not sure yet. However, she will not be wearing my wedding attire.”
Despite my anger, I refrained from screaming. Nothing was thrown by me. I wanted to call Janine, but I didn’t. That evening, Evan paced the living room as if he were only a breath away from marching to my dad’s house, while I sat with him on the couch, legs tucked up under me.
He rubbed the back of his neck and added, “I promise, Ellie, if you let me, I’ll speak with her directly.”
I gave a headshake. “No. Drama is precisely what she desires. A scene. That’s what she thrives on. Allow her to believe she is winning.”
Evan’s pace ceased. “So what are you gonna do?”
I grinned, but it wasn’t a pleasant one. “I have an idea.”
And I did.
Janine was unable to stop talking about her clothing for the next few weeks. She seemed to be the star of a reality show as she glided around the room at my bridal shower.
“You ladies will die when you see my gown,” she said to Evan’s mother, almost spinning her wine glass. “It’s elegant but daring — definitely going to turn heads.”
Saying, “I’m sure it will,” I grinned broadly.
I looked across the room at Chloe. “You okay?” she mouthed, and I nodded subtly.
We had a strategy.
Evan’s relatives, my aunts, and even the florist’s assistant, who I knew would be taking some behind-the-scenes pictures, were among the female guests on the invite list, so I emailed them all that evening.
The message was straightforward: A Fun Wedding Request! I wrote a brief letter inside:
“Hello, women!
I would love it if everyone wore something in a light rustic shade, like cream, ivory, or off-white, for the pictures and overall look. Neutral flowers, flowing textiles, and earthy hues are all ideal. For those charming autumnal vibes, think warm and well-coordinated. It would mean a lot, but it is completely optional. I really appreciate that, and I’m excited to see you.”
I deliberately omitted Janine from the thread.
I had another meeting with my seamstress, Mia, the following week. I offered a fresh concept along with coffee.
Telling her, “I need a second dress,” “Something luminous. Something entirely apart from the previous design I created.”
She blinked. “You’re changing your dress a week before the wedding?”
When I said, “I’m changing everything,”
Mia chuckled quietly. “All right.” “What are we thinking?”
Saying “Sunflower yellow,” “Chiffon. Accents of white lace. along with a golden sash.”
Her eyes glowed. “That could be gorgeous.”
I grinned. “That’s the point.”
When the wedding day finally came, it was flawless, golden, and crisp. Never before had Aunt Carol’s farmhouse looked so lovely. The smell of smoked brisket filled the air, autumn leaves fluttered in the breeze, and the backyard was strung with bright lights.
With my garment dangling from the closet door like a covert weapon and my hair curled and fastened with baby breath, Chloe and I stood inside the tiny guest cottage.
Chloe smiled as she glanced at me. “You’re radiant. Not a joke. You appear to be a true woods goddess.”
I used my hands to smooth the chiffon skirt. “Thank you. Isn’t it a little poetic? She’s going to blend in with the wallpaper, even though she wanted to stand out by wearing white.”
Chloe gave a snort. “You’re a bad person. I adore it.”
Evan peeked his head in and knocked once. “Can I see you before the ceremony?”
Chloe winked and slipped out. His eyes widened as he entered, and I looked up at him.
“Oh my God,” he said in a whisper. “Ellie… you look…”
I chuckled. “Different?”
He said, “Beautiful,” and took my hands. “Completely, heartbreakingly beautiful.”
I gave him a quick kiss. “Ready to get married?”
He gave a nod. “Absolutely.”
The visitors started to arrive shortly before dusk. As anticipated, nearly all of the women arrived dressed in some variation of ivory, off-white, or cream. The entire space resembled a Pinterest board come to life, complete with comfortable shawls and lace dresses.
Then Janine appeared just before the ceremony began.
Wearing that dress—the tight, ivory, mermaid-style gown with the spectacular train and beaded bodice—and carrying a small white clutch, she came in heels that dipped slightly into the soft grass.
People turned. Not with admiration, but with bewilderment.
She entered with assurance, but then she noticed the crowd.
Then her face gradually transformed. The blink was the first. A frown followed. Her gaze shifted from one group to another. dozens of females. Everything is white. coordinated. They all matched her.
Then she noticed me.
In the late afternoon sun, my yellow dress was shining like a sunflower as I stood beneath the birch arch, surrounded by golden light.
She opened her mouth a little. She seems to have just had a horrible secret whispered in her ear.
In a whisper, Chloe said, “You outplayed her so hard.”
I almost burst out laughing.
Janine attempted to take back the room during supper. Throughout my uncle’s toast, she cracked boisterous jokes. When someone brought up Evan’s bachelor party, she burst out laughing. The “floral arrangements I helped Ellie tweak,” which she even stood up to praise, were completely untrue.
After grinning pleasantly, everyone returned their attention to their meals. Some raised their eyebrows as they looked at her clothing, then at everyone else’s. It was an obvious message. The star wasn’t her. She wasn’t even a supporting role model. She was simply uncomfortable.
I witnessed my father move uneasily on multiple occasions. Janine continued nudging him, whispering in his ear, and laughing aloud like if they were at a comedy club, despite his attempts to concentrate on his plate.
The remarks were then scheduled.
My father was the first to stand. Using both hands to hold his glass, he appeared both proud and anxious.
“I just wanted to express how pleased I am of Ellie. She has consistently been compassionate, strong, and authentic. The greatest honor of my life has been witnessing her develop into the lady she is today.”
Janine took his hand and stood beside him, grinning as if she had composed the speech herself. However, another person spoke up before she could. It was Lorena, my mother’s best friend, who had raised me as an aunt.
She grasped the microphone carefully. Whispering, “If I could just say something,” she said.
The room fell silent.
Her words, “Today is more than a wedding,” It serves as a reminder of the type of woman Ellie has developed into—one who responds to harshness and conceit with poise and originality. To attract attention, some people choose to dress in white. To shine in her own light, Ellie dons yellow.
There was silence. Nobody moved for a second.
Then the cheers began. It was emotional, boisterous, and exuberant.
Janine’s grin dimmed. She tensed up. She took a seat again slowly and remained silent the remainder of the evening. She ate very little. She didn’t move.
She was gone by the time the first song was played by the band.
My phone rang a couple of days later.
It was my father.
He cleared his throat. “Ellie… do you have a minute?”
“Sure.”
“I just… I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
I took a seat. “For what?”
“For not intervening earlier. for allowing things to progress this far.”
I remained silent.
“She broke down in the car,” he added, “his voice worn out. said you intentionally made her feel inferior. that you gave her a ludicrous appearance.”
I inhaled deeply. “She stole my dress, Dad. She attended my wedding dressed in white. When I urged her not to, she made fun of me. She humiliated herself; I didn’t do it to her.”
A pause occurred.
Then he said, “You’re right.”
They split up two weeks later.
I received a picture of Janine’s Instagram from Chloe via SMS. As if she had disappeared into thin air, it had been wiped clean. No more selfies at brunch. No more sayings that relate to “divine femininity.” The profile photo is black and white, and there is only one ambiguous post regarding “new beginnings.”
That she had been lying about was not limited to her “eye for aesthetics.” My father found out that she had been using his credit card for sporadic internet purchases, including the outfit, spa treatments, and high-end skincare products.
“She wasn’t who I thought she was,” he said a few months later at brunch.
We were seated in a little downtown café. He appeared at ease. More content. Even lighter.
“She fooled me,” he replied. “And I detest that. However, you managed her more skillfully than I ever could have.”
I grinned and stirred my coffee. “I just didn’t want her to ruin the day.”
He gave me a look. Your mother would have been pleased. You didn’t shout. You fought honorably. Everyone was just reminded of who you are.
I squeezed his hand as I reached across the table.
“I’m grateful, Dad. All I wanted was for everyone to remember whose day it was.”
Slowly, he nodded.
He asserted, “Believe me, nobody did.”
Do you think I did a good job handling this? If you were in my shoes, how would you have responded?
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