After losing Dad in a tragic accident, Mom spent five years wrapped in grief, raising me with quiet strength. She never dated, never even looked at another man — until Greg came along. For the first time, I saw her truly smile again, and when they announced their engagement, I poured my heart into helping plan the wedding she so deeply deserved.

But not everyone shared our joy. Aunt Dana, bitter and jealous, scoffed at the idea of Mom remarrying. She made snide comments, sent cruel texts, and even questioned whether Mom should wear white. I suspected she would try something dramatic, so I stayed ready.

Sure enough, on the big day, Dana stormed into the reception in a floor-length bridal-white gown, beaming as though she were the bride. Gasps filled the room, and for a moment, Mom’s happiness dimmed. But instead of letting Dana steal the spotlight, I whispered to Mom, “Don’t worry, I got this,” and set my plan in motion.

I had her seat moved to the kids’ table by the booming speakers — exactly the “center stage” she craved. Surrounded by spilled juice and toy swords, Dana spent the night humiliated while Mom danced and laughed, glowing in her second chance at love. When the photos came back, Dana wasn’t in a single one — erased from the story she tried so hard to ruin.