“Now you’ll never marry my son!” my mother-in-law laughed, setting my wedding dress on fire. I wiped my tears, smiled coldly, and said, “Enjoy destroying that dress, because the wedding was never the real trap.” Her face went completely pale when I made one quick phone call…

done.”

The venue’s lead coordinator hovered hesitantly in the doorway, her headset askew, her eyes darting between the smoking dress and the furious groom. “Miss Mitchell,” she whispered, treating me like an unexploded bomb, “the congregation is descending into chaos. The catering staff is asking for direction. Shall I announce a formal cancellation?continue reading …