Every time I thought about walking down the aisle with hair I didn’t choose, I wanted to vanish.
When I finally made it home, my eyes were swollen. Alex was at the kitchen table with his laptop.
“What happened?” he asked, already standing.
“Your mom,” I croaked. “She happened.”
He stepped closer, staring at my hair, then my face.
“Tell me,” he said.
“Everything.”
So I did.
I told him about the spa day, the turned chair, the CHUNK, the braid on the floor. I repeated every comment she’d ever made.
“Some people settle for small jobs.”
“Long hair is childish.”
“Maybe this wedding isn’t meant to be. Some things fall apart for a reason.”
By the end, I was crying again.
Alex’s face went darker than I’ve ever seen.
“She wanted you to cancel,” he said quietly.
“She knew exactly what she was doing.”
I nodded. “She thinks I’ll be too humiliated to walk down the aisle like this.”
“Yes,” I said, instantly.
“More than anything.”
“Then we’re getting married,” he said. “Exactly as planned. With your hair like this.
She doesn’t get to win.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “How do we stop her from ruining the rest of it?”
He hesitated, then his eyes sharpened.
“I don’t want her at our wedding,” he said. “But we need her there… so I can teach her a lesson she’ll never forget.”
I frowned.Continue reading…
