“Kathleen, with respect, have you actually worn this dress yourself?”
Her eyes shifted away from mine.
“That’s not the point.”
“Then please explain why I’m expected to wear it.”
“Because I’m telling you to.”
Those five words seemed to fill the entire room.
I had heard versions of them throughout my relationship with Larry.
Kathleen always knew best.
Kathleen’s opinions always mattered most.
Kathleen’s disappointment always became someone else’s responsibility.
I remembered our first Christmas together, when she criticized the homemade dinner I had prepared and told Larry that a proper wife should know how to cook for her family.
I remembered the birthday party where she introduced me as Larry’s little girlfriend despite our having been together for five years.
I remembered the evening she told me my career was too demanding and suggested I find something less ambitious before marriage.
Each time, Larry told me not to take her comments personally.
He insisted that his mother was simply traditional.
He reminded me that she had raised him alone for several years and had sacrificed so much.
I tried to understand.
When Larry lost his apartment after experiencing financial difficulties, I helped cover his expenses while he got back on his feet.
When he struggled with unexpected bills, I rearranged my own budget to support him.
When Kathleen demanded Sunday dinners, I attended even after exhausting workweeks because Larry said family togetherness mattered.
I worked two jobs while finishing college, and I had never expected anyone to hand me an easy life.
Yet Kathleen spoke as though her family had rescued me from something.
I looked toward the window again.
My beautiful dress was still hanging there, untouched and waiting.
That gown represented something Kathleen had never understood.
It represented a choice I had made for myself.
I turned back toward her.
“I’m sorry if this disappoints you, but I’m not changing my mind.”
Kathleen pressed one hand against her chest.
“I never imagined you would humiliate me like this.”
“Nobody is humiliating you.”
“You are refusing the one thing I asked of you.”
I almost laughed at that.
The one thing she had asked of me.
She had demanded changes to the flowers, the seating arrangements, the menu, and the invitations.
She had complained because my mother wanted to make a short speech at the reception.
She had insisted that several of her friends be invited even though Larry and I had originally planned a smaller ceremony.
At our final wedding meeting, she had criticized Jenna’s bridesmaid dress because she considered the color inappropriate.
Every compromise had led to another demand.
Somewhere along the way, the wedding had stopped feeling like a celebration of our relationship and started feeling like an examination I could never pass.
Still, I had told myself that the stress would end once the ceremony was over.
I believed Larry and I would finally begin our life together.
Then I noticed someone standing in the doorway.
Larry.
He was wearing his wedding trousers and a crisp white shirt, with his jacket folded neatly over one arm.
He should have been smiling.
Instead, he looked irritated.
My relief at seeing him lasted less than a second.
“Larry, please tell your mother this is ridiculous.”
He didn’t look at the stained gown.
He looked at me.
“Elizabeth, just put the dress on.”
I waited for him to smile.
He didn’t.
“Larry, have you seen it?”
“Yes.”
That single word made something inside me sink.
“You knew she was bringing this?”
He shifted his weight.
“Mom told me she had something special planned.”
I stared at him.
“And you agreed?”
He sighed.
“Can we not turn this into a huge argument three hours before our wedding?”
I gestured toward the damaged dress.
“Your mother wants me to wear something that looks like it has been rotting in storage.”
Kathleen gasped.
“How dare you speak about a family heirloom that way?”
Larry stepped closer.
“Elizabeth, lower your voice.”
I looked around the room.
Nobody else was speaking.
“I’m not raising my voice.”
“You’re upsetting my mother.”
“She’s trying to replace my wedding dress.”
“It’s just a dress.”
I couldn’t believe he had said that.
“It’s the dress I chose for our wedding.”
“And this is the dress my mother wants.”
His answer was so immediate that it frightened me.
I studied the man standing in front of me.
I had met Larry when I was nineteen.
Back then, he had made me laugh when I was overwhelmed with schoolwork and brought me coffee during late study sessions.
He remembered little things about me.
He knew my favorite flowers, the music I listened to when I was nervous, and the way I always called my mother after something important happened.
I fell in love with his kindness.
Or at least with the kindness I believed I saw.
But standing in that hotel suite, I suddenly realized how often his kindness disappeared whenever his mother entered the room.
“Larry, look at me.”
He crossed his arms.
“I’m looking.”
“Do you genuinely think I should wear that dress?”
He glanced toward Kathleen.
That glance told me everything.
“I think you should respect my mother.”
My throat tightened.
“What about respecting me?”
He said nothing.
I tried again.
“This is supposed to be our wedding.”
“It will be, if you stop making everything difficult.”
Jenna finally stood.
“Larry, maybe everyone should calm down and talk about this privately.”
Kathleen turned sharply.
“Keep your opinions out of our family business.”
Jenna froze.
I stepped between them.
“Don’t speak to my friend like that.”
Kathleen’s eyes widened.
“Now you’re ordering me around?”
“No, I’m asking you to treat people respectfully.”
She gave a short, bitter laugh.
“Do you hear her, Larry?”
Larry rubbed his forehead.
“Elizabeth, you’re making this worse.”
I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
“How am I making it worse?”
“By refusing to cooperate.”
I looked toward Rachel, who had quietly moved away from the vanity.
