My Stepmom Wore My Late Mom’s Wedding Dress to Marry My Dad — Even Though It Was Meant for My Future Wedding

When Summer’s stepmom steals the wedding dress her late mother left for her, she refuses to let it slide. Betrayed by the one person who should have protected her, she hatches a plan… one that will ensure Lisa gets exactly what she deserves. After all, some things aren’t meant to be stolen.

My mom died when I was thirteen.

It wasn’t supposed to happen that way. One second, she was there, laughing, telling me to tie my shoelaces, humming in the kitchen while she made blueberry pie, and the next?

A blueberry pie on a table | Source: Midjourney

A blueberry pie on a table | Source: Midjourney

She was gone.

It was sudden, cruel, and the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.

But she was my best friend. And she left me something priceless.

Her wedding dress.

I still remember how she ran her fingers over the lace, her eyes soft as she placed it in my hands.

A wedding dress on a bed | Source: Midjourney

A wedding dress on a bed | Source: Midjourney

For my beautiful daughter,

this is so that a part of me will always be with you on your special day.

-Mom

A folded piece of paper on a table | Source: Midjourney

A folded piece of paper on a table | Source: Midjourney

I mean, I was thirteen. Marriage felt a million years away, but I treasured that dress like a relic. I kept it zipped up in its protective bag, untouched, waiting for the day I’d finally get to wear it.

And then, my dad met her.

Lisa.

A smiling woman in red | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman in red | Source: Midjourney

Lisa came into our lives like a whirlwind. She smiled too much and inserted herself into every conversation like she belonged with us. She made stupid comments about how I needed a “strong female figure” and how “a woman can’t grow up without a mother’s touch.”

Of course, I was polite. I tried to be happy for my dad. He had been so lonely, and I wanted him to find love again. Nobody would replace my mother in our lives, but we knew that she’d want us to be happy.

Except that Lisa didn’t just want to be my dad’s new wife. She wanted to erase my mom.

A smiling man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

The moment she moved in, things changed. She started redecorating. She started boxing up the few things of my mom’s that we left out. Eventually, my home stopped feeling like mine.

And then came the engagement.

Dad proposed to her after just a year of them being together. I didn’t want to say too much about it because they were adults. I figured that despite my issues with Lisa, maybe he saw something in her that made him ready for marriage.

A smiling woman holding a box | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman holding a box | Source: Midjourney

It was his life, his decision.

But when Lisa started planning the wedding, I should have known that she’d take it too far.

I just never expected this.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

I came home late one evening, stepping inside to the sound of laughter coming from my dad’s bedroom. Lisa’s voice? High and excited.

Another woman’s voice rang loud and clear.

Oh, goodness, I thought to myself.

It was Greta, Lisa’s sister.

Something felt off about the house. Like the entire energy was just… wrong.

A smiling woman standing in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman standing in a bedroom | Source: Midjourney

The door was cracked open just enough for me to see inside.

And when I did, my entire world stopped.

Lisa was wearing my mom’s wedding dress.

She twirled in front of the mirror, adjusting the lace sleeves, smoothing the beading like it belonged to her. Like it wasn’t a sacred piece of my mother’s memory.

A young woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A young woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

Her sister clapped.

“Oh, my God. It’s perfect, Lisa! It’s like it was made for you, honey! Wow!”

“What the hell are you doing?!” I exclaimed, slamming the door open.

Lisa gasped, spinning toward me.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d be home yet!”

“Take. It. Off. Now!”

An upset young woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

An upset young woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

My entire body shook with rage.

She sighed, like I was a child throwing a tantrum.

“I was just trying it on. No big deal,” she said.

“No big deal?!” My voice cracked. “That dress was for me! My mom left it for me! It’s not yours!”

Lisa’s expression shifted. Her smile turned patronizing.

A woman wearing a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

A woman wearing a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

“Honey, it’s just a dress,” she said, sighing. “Besides, your dad and I are getting married. Wouldn’t it be a beautiful way to honor your mother? Me wearing her dress to marry him? I think the symbolism is beautiful… don’t you?”

She smiled at me, her fake smile making me feel uneasy.

“That’s a lovely way of looking at it,” Greta chimed in.

I saw red. This wasn’t a symbol of anything other than disrespect.

A smiling woman wearing a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman wearing a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

I turned to my dad, who had just walked in, briefcase in hand.

He was my last hope.

“Dad. Say something. This isn’t okay!”

His jaw tightened. His shoulders stiffened.

For a brief second, I saw hesitation in his eyes. A flicker of discomfort, of guilt.

A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

But then Lisa looped her arm through his, smiling up at him like she already knew he wouldn’t fight her on this.

And just like that, he caved.

Lisa tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

“Your dad thinks it’s a wonderful idea.”

A smiling woman in a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman in a wedding dress | Source: Midjourney

Something inside me snapped. I knew, right then, that I had lost him.

I could have cried that night. I could have screamed, shouted, or even eaten my feelings…

But I didn’t.

Instead, I sat in my dark room, laptop open, scrolling through article after article, fingers shaking over the keyboard.

A woman using a laptop | Source: Midjourney

A woman using a laptop | Source: Midjourney

How to weaken fabric?

How to ruin lace without visible damage?

How to make a dress fall apart?

My search history looked unhinged. But I didn’t care.

The first few articles were useless—staining techniques, how to stretch fabric.

A wedding dress on a laptop screen | Source: Midjourney

A wedding dress on a laptop screen | Source: Midjourney

“That’s not what I need,” I muttered to the screen. “Give me something good.”

And then, I found something promising.

Soaking fabric in water and letting it dry weakens the fibers. Repeating the process multiple times makes delicate material brittle.

My breath hitched.

A young woman using her laptop | Source: Midjourney

A young woman using her laptop | Source: Midjourney

It was perfect.

Not noticeable at first glance. Not immediate. But the moment Lisa moved too much? The seams would start to split.

The fabric would tear.

I read everything I could. Textile experiments, bridal forums, costume designers explaining fabric care. By the time the sun started creeping through my curtains, I had a plan.

A wedding dress on a hanger | Source: Midjourney

A wedding dress on a hanger | Source: Midjourney

Lisa was going to walk down that aisle in a dress that wasn’t my mother’s… and she was going to humiliate herself while doing it.

When the morning rolled around, I stood in the kitchen, adding toppings on bagels.

I swallowed my fury and played the part of the mature stepdaughter. I pretended that I had accepted it.

Bagels on a wooden board | Source: Midjourney

Bagels on a wooden board | Source: Midjourney

“I’m okay with it, Lisa,” I said, cutting into an avocado. “I thought about it, and I guess your reasoning does make sense.”

“Really?” she asked, taken by surprise.

“Yes,” I said. “Here’s some breakfast, if you want.”

“I’ll have some coffee, and then can we try the dress on again?” she asked.

Avocado slices on a board | Source: Midjourney

Avocado slices on a board | Source: Midjourney

I nodded.

I helped Lisa try on the dress again, nodding as she asked if it looked good.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” I murmured, straightening the lace on her sleeve. “We have a few days before the wedding. I’ll have it steamed so that it’s pristine for the ceremony, okay?”

Lisa beamed.

“See? I knew you’d come around! So, the dress is in your hands?”

I nodded.

She had no idea what I was about to do.

A lace wedding dress on a hanger | Source: Midjourney

A lace wedding dress on a hanger | Source: Midjourney

The bell above the thrift store door jingled as Willow and I stepped inside. The place smelled like old fabric and dust, racks of dresses packed so tightly together that the lace and tulle tangled.

I swallowed hard.

I hadn’t been in a place like this since Mom took me shopping for a school dance dress years ago. Back when she had run her fingers over fabrics, teaching me the difference between chiffon and organza like it was the most important lesson in the world.

The exterior of a thrift shop | Source: Midjourney

The exterior of a thrift shop | Source: Midjourney

Back when she was still here.

Willow nudged me.

“Are we looking for anything specific or just hoping the universe provides?”

I hesitated.

Then I exhaled, gripping the list I had scrawled in my notes app at 2 a.m.

A young woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney

A young woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney

“Long sleeves. Lace. Beading. Something that looks expensive but isn’t.”

She blinked.

“That’s quite specific, Sum,” she said.

I didn’t answer. I just ran my hand over a nearby dress, cheap polyester rough under my fingers.

Willow sighed.

A row of wedding dresses | Source: Midjourney

A row of wedding dresses | Source: Midjourney

“Summer, talk to me.”

I swallowed, my throat tight.

“I just… I really thought my dad would stand up for Mom. And preserve her memory…” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to keep going. “She told him. She wrote it down. That dress was meant for me. And he just stood there and let Lisa…” My hands clenched the fabric. “Let her steal it.”

“I know.” Willow’s eyes softened.

A young woman standing in a thrift shop | Source: Midjourney

A young woman standing in a thrift shop | Source: Midjourney

I shook my head, my breath shaky.

“It’s like she’s trying to erase my mom. And he’s letting her.”

Willow grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight.

“She can’t erase your mom, Summer. She can try, but Lisa will never be her.”

A young woman in a thrift shop | Source: Midjourney

A young woman in a thrift shop | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, biting my lip so hard it hurt. Then I exhaled and squared my shoulders.

“Come on,” I muttered, moving toward another rack of dresses. “Let’s find Lisa something worthy of her.”

That night, after dinner, everyone went off in their own directions. And when the house fell asleep, I made the switch.

Food on a table | Source: Midjourney

Food on a table | Source: Midjourney

My mother’s dress stayed locked away in my room. The cheap replica that Willow and I had found took its place.

The cheap replica that was about to be soaked, dried, and weakened over the next few nights.

Lisa had absolutely no idea. She thought that I was being sweet. Dutiful.

A dress in a bathtub | Source: Midjourney

A dress in a bathtub | Source: Midjourney

The morning of the wedding, guests filled the venue. Lisa beamed as she slipped into the fake dress, blissfully unaware.

“You did such a good job with steaming this dress, Summer,” she said. “Now, hand me my bouquet, and let’s go on our way! Your father is waiting for us at the end of the aisle.”

Being one of the bridesmaids, I walked down the aisle first. I locked eyes with my father for a brief moment before looking away.

A bridesmaid walking down the aisle | Source: Midjourney

A bridesmaid walking down the aisle | Source: Midjourney

When had he become a stranger? I thought to myself.

The music began, and Lisa started to walk down the aisle.

I stood there, watching her.

Lisa made her grand entrance, smug as ever. She practically floated down the aisle, her veil trailing behind her, her hands clutching my dad’s like she’d won some twisted game.

A woman walking down the aisle | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking down the aisle | Source: Midjourney

And just as she reached him…

Rip.

A gasp echoed through the room.

The fabric at her side split clean open.

Lisa froze.

A shocked bride | Source: Midjourney

A shocked bride | Source: Midjourney

Then, as she moved to cover herself with her hand, there was another rip.

One sleeve tore, the lace unraveling like a cheap costume. Beads started popping off, skittering across the floor like tiny white lies coming undone.

I had soaked the thrift store dress in water and let it dry overnight, weakening the fabric just enough. I had done that every night leading up to the wedding.

A smiling bridesmaid | Source: Midjourney

A smiling bridesmaid | Source: Midjourney

The moment Lisa moved too much, it was bound to disintegrate. Just like now…

“What’s happening?!” Lisa shrieked.

I stepped forward, arms crossed.

“I guess that’s what happens when you wear something old…”

A smug bridesmaid | Source: Midjourney

A smug bridesmaid | Source: Midjourney

“Your mother’s dress?! Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you warn me that we needed a lining or something?”

“Oh, Lisa. That’s not my mom’s dress.”

Her head snapped toward me, face burning red.

“What did you do?” she bellowed.

“I wouldn’t trust you with something that precious, Lisa. So, I got you a little… replacement.”

A shocked bride | Source: Midjourney

A shocked bride | Source: Midjourney

The entire venue fell into stunned silence. My dad looked mortified. Guests exchanged murmurs, watching as Lisa clutched at the falling-apart dress. Children giggled behind their hands. Lisa’s perfect moment was coming undone.

And me?

I walked out of that ceremony with my head held high.

A young woman walking away | Source: Midjourney

A young woman walking away | Source: Midjourney

Lisa refused to speak to me after that.

My dad? Oh, he was furious. But I told him the truth.

“You actually allowed her to wear Mom’s dress?” I said. “Even after you knew that Mom left it for me? I had to do something! You gave me no choice!”

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry, Summer,” he said. “She bulldozed her way into it. It was my fault. I was looking at your mom’s wedding dress… I was feeling nostalgic. And Lisa walked in on that moment. She wanted the dress the moment she saw it.”

“And you didn’t stop her? You didn’t help her see sense?”

My dad shook his head.

A young woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney

A young woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney

In the end, their wedding happened. Sure, it wasn’t as planned. No big ceremony. No grand dress. Just them, at a courthouse, in silence. I didn’t even go.

And my mom’s dress?

It’s still mine.

Waiting for the day I wear it. I may add an extra layer of lining now that I know my way around wedding dresses and preserving them.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

Chloe donates $10K toward her brother’s wedding, but his fiancée, Madison, wants more; she demands Chloe’s late mother’s wedding dress. When Chloe refuses, Madison throws a tantrum. But karma comes fast, and before the day is over, Chloe makes a move no one sees coming, one that changes everything.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

I Got a Frantic Video Message from My Mom — I Was Shocked to Find Out What Dad Had Done to Her

While Annie is having a lazy Saturday, sitting around and scrolling through social media, a video message from her mom pops up. As she hits play, Annie discovers that one of her father’s pranks has left her mother scared and alone. Annie rushes over to her parents’ house, ready to teach her father a lesson.

I didn’t think my dad would ever take one of his dumb jokes this far, but here we are, having lived through it. My phone lit up earlier today with a video message from my mom that made my heart stop for a second.

I wasn’t prepared for what I saw, and now, hours later, I’m still trying to process the whole thing.

A worried young woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried young woman | Source: Midjourney

Let me back up a second and give you some context on how everything went down. My dad is what you’d call “old school.” He has this grumpy exterior, like he came straight out of the 1970s and never quite adapted to life in the present.

He’s not a bad guy, but he can be ridiculously difficult to get along with. He doesn’t do heart-to-hearts or deep conversations. Instead, he sheds part of his grumpiness off when he’s at home and leans into his pranking nature. They are harmless, annoying little pranks that he thinks are hilarious but leave my mom rolling her eyes and sighing.

A grumpy man | Source: Midjourney

A grumpy man | Source: Midjourney

Most of the time, Dad does really stupid stuff like hiding Mom’s glasses when she’s looking for them or misplacing her keys right when she’s about to leave. These pranks have always been annoying, but nothing too wild.

Except today.

Today, Dad decided to really outdo himself.

I was in my little apartment about 20 minutes from my parents’ house. I was minding my own business, sipping on a soft drink and scrolling through TikTok, when my phone pinged with a message from my mother.

A woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A video message.

The thumbnail was black, and all I could hear was her voice, which was muffled and kind of shaky. Like she was afraid of something.

That’s when I got a bit panicked. Mom wasn’t the type to send video messages. To be honest, I didn’t think she knew how to do it. Immediately, I knew that something was off.

I tapped play, and there she was. The camera was all shaky, and she was crouched in a corner, whispering like she was about to be caught by someone or something.

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

“Annie,” she breathed into the phone. “Sweetheart, your dad… he locked me in the basement. Can you come help me? He thinks this is funny. All because he wanted to eat in peace. I think there are rats or mice in the basement, Annie. Come quickly.”

What. The. Hell.

I was so shocked, I nearly dropped my phone onto the floor. Locked in the basement? He locked her in the basement? And it was supposed to be funny?

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

My dad, in all his “wisdom,” had apparently decided that the best way to enjoy his dinner in peace was to lock my mother in the basement. Just so that she wouldn’t remind him to eat his veggies during a precious football game? He truly didn’t care about his cholesterol.

I called her back immediately, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up!” I muttered.

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman | Source: Midjourney

My brain went straight into overdrive. My mom never asked for help unless things were way beyond something she could do for herself. She was a woman who could handle herself. I mean, she’s lived with my father for years, so that had to count for something. But she was also a woman who was deeply afraid of the dark and confined places.

So now, she was locked in the basement and not answering her phone. Dad had really crossed a line with this one.

I texted her, but there was no response.

A woman sitting in a basement | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a basement | Source: Midjourney

“Maybe her phone died, Annie,” I told myself. “She must be so afraid… and livid.”

I knew I had to get to her as soon as possible.

I grabbed my keys and bolted out of my apartment. I live about twenty minutes away from my parents, but I swear, I made it in twelve.

Car keys on a table | Source: Midjourney

Car keys on a table | Source: Midjourney

The entire drive, I was fuming, and I already knew how this was going to end. My dad thought he was clever, but if there’s one thing I inherited from him, other than his eye color, it’s the ability to come up with a solid revenge plan.

“I can’t believe the nerve of this man,” I said to myself as I turned into our street.

When I got to the house, I didn’t even bother knocking. I had my spare key, so I let myself in. As soon as I stepped inside, I could hear the muffled sound of the TV blaring from the living room.

A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a car | Source: Midjourney

Classic Dad.

He was probably sitting there, stuffing his face with steak. It was a home routine—Saturdays meant steak for dinner. Little did he know, I was about to teach him a lesson, too.

I headed straight for the basement. Sure enough, the door was locked, but the key hung from the hook next to the door.

I knocked softly, and Mom’s relieved voice came through the wood.

A woman standing next to a door | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing next to a door | Source: Midjourney

“Honey, is that you?” she whispered.

“Yeah, it’s me, Mom,” I said. “Hang tight, we’re getting you out of there.”

I unlocked the door, and when my mother stepped out, she didn’t even look mad. She just looked tired. But there was a glint in her eye, like she wanted to get revenge on my father, too.

“Dad’s still in the living room,” I said. “He didn’t even hear me come in.”

A frowning older woman | Source: Midjourney

A frowning older woman | Source: Midjourney

“Oh? He’s still enjoying his victory, then?”

“Yeah, well, that’s going to be short-lived, Mom,” I said.

There’s one thing about my father: he loves his “throne.” It’s a ridiculous electric recliner that he spent way too much money on a few years ago. He loves it more than any person in the world, which is sad and pathetic, but true.

A man sitting on a recliner | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting on a recliner | Source: Midjourney

The chair has heated seats, a massage feature, and even USB ports. He treats it like it’s something sacred in our home.

Naturally, I aimed my revenge at it.

I told my mom the plan, and she laughed nervously. We crept toward the living room where Dad was zoned out, still glued to his game, digging into his dinner.

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

A woman laughing | Source: Midjourney

I quietly unplugged his precious chair from the wall. And the best part? This man didn’t even notice a thing. Then, with my mom watching, I pulled a little tube of super glue that I had taken from the kitchen.

I smeared it over the chair’s buttons, still absolutely perplexed that my father didn’t register that I was in the room, right next to him.

After that, Mom and I went back to the kitchen. We sat on the bar stools in silence as Mom opened a tub of cookies for us to nibble on.

A container of chocolate chip cookies | Source: Midjourney

A container of chocolate chip cookies | Source: Midjourney

Ten minutes later, the game went to half-time. We could hear Dad shift in his chair and he tried to press the recline button. Nothing happened. He frowned and pressed it again, harder this time.

Still nothing.

“What the heck?” he grumbled, fiddling with the controls. Then, I saw it. The moment when the realization hit him.

A man sitting on a recliner | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting on a recliner | Source: Midjourney

He started pulling at the armrests, trying to get up, but his hands were stuck. His face turned from confusion to full-on panic.

“What’s wrong, Frank?” Mom asked, strolling into the living room.

“The darn chair is broken!” he complained.

“Oh, really? Maybe because you overuse it. But wasn’t it fine before you locked me in the basement?” Mom asked.

My father’s eyes widened.

An expressionless woman | Source: Midjourney

An expressionless woman | Source: Midjourney

“You didn’t… Wait! How did you get out?” he asked.

“Annie,” Mom said simply.

I stepped out from my spot in the kitchen, where I had been recording their conversation.

“Smile for the camera, Dad,” I said. “This is going in the family group chat!”

“You wouldn’t dare, Annie!” he barked at me, tugging helplessly at his stuck hands.

“Oh, but I would,” I said.

A man sitting in a recliner | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in a recliner | Source: Midjourney

I pressed send, and the replies started rolling in soon. If there was one thing my father hated, it was being seen beyond his usual façade. He didn’t want people to see the real him. And this was him, an ugly person.

“I’m taking Mom home with me for the rest of the weekend,” I said. “You can figure out how to get yourself off your throne.”

Mom went upstairs to pack herself an overnight bag. I didn’t want to leave her with Dad. But I doubt he’ll be locking anyone in the basement anytime soon.

A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

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