That was the dream, at least, until my daughter Amanda turned it into an absolute nightmare.

It started with traffic, of course. My fiancé Adam and I were stuck on the freeway in our limousine, trapped in a sea of brake lights thanks to an overturned truck miles ahead. We weren’t too worried about the traditions. We were both married before, so seeing each other before the ceremony was the least of our concerns.

“Time, please, Ben?” I called through the intercom for our driver.

“It’s difficult to say, Mabel,” he said. “But I’m trying to gap in whenever I can! I will get you and Adam down the aisle!”

We were definitely going to be late.

“Love, call Amanda,” Adam said, his jaw tight as he tapped on the seat. “Tell her to sort out the guests, just get the band going and keep people entertained.”

“Hey, sweetie,” I said the moment she answered. “We’re stuck in traffic. There has been an accident, so everything is at a standstill. Can you make sure everything’s running smoothly at the venue? We’ll be about 30 minutes or so. Adam said to get the band playing.”

“Of course, Mommy!” Amanda chirped, her voice syrupy sweet. “Don’t you worry about a thing other than getting here. I’ve got everything else handled. Be safe!”

I exhaled, letting her assurance calm my nerves. But not ten minutes later, my phone buzzed. It was my sister, Jess.

“Sis, you have to come here now! It’s Amanda, she…” her voice trailed off before the call cut off.

“She’s what?” I muttered, immediately redialing, but it went straight to voicemail. A heavy pit settled in my stomach, but there was nothing we could do except crawl forward in the traffic.

“What do you think Jess meant? What do you think is going on?” I asked Adam after filling him in.

“Oh, honey,” he said. “Honestly, I’m sure Amanda picked up a mic and is trying to sing with the band.”

When we finally pulled up to the venue half an hour later, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Amanda stood on the steps, her face glowing as she held a bouquet of ivory roses. She was in a wedding dress. It was white and simple, but it was definitely a wedding dress.

Our photographers swarmed around her, cameras clicking as she posed with a dazzling smile. And next to her stood Kyle, her boyfriend of barely a year, looking dazed and uncomfortable in a suit.

I felt my heart stop.

“What the hell is going on?” I yelled, storming up the stairs.

Amanda turned to me, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement.

My jaw dropped.

“My ceremony? You had my ceremony? You stole my ceremony? Amanda, are you out of your damn mind?”

“Well,” she said, brushing imaginary dust off her dress. “I thought since you were late, we couldn’t let the time go to waste. Everything was already set up, and the officiant needed to get going. You know how much I hate delays. So… I married Kyle!”

The audacity of it left me speechless. My beautiful ceremony, the one Adam and I had dreamed of and planned for months… it was all gone. It had been hijacked by my own daughter.

I shook my head.

Adam came up behind me, his face a mix of fury and heartbreak. He had spent so much time trying to bond and build a relationship with Amanda that I knew her behavior had broken his heart, too.

“Say the word, love,” he said. “Say the word, Mabel, and I’ll shut this down right now.”

I looked at Amanda, the girl I raised, who was now staring at me with infuriating smugness. My fists clenched. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to fight her, to take back what she had stolen.

But I exhaled slowly.

“She’s still my daughter,” I muttered to Adam. “Don’t. I’ll teach her a lesson another way.”

The reception was a surreal experience. Amanda flounced through the room, acting like the star of a fairy tale, completely oblivious to the devastation she’d caused.

My family and friends came around between courses, asking what had really happened.

“I don’t know, Aunt Joy,” I said. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”

When dessert rolled around, Amanda even had the nerve to cut into the cake we’d ordered, complete with the beautiful sugar flowers.

Jess pulled me aside at one point, her eyes blazing.

“That daughter of yours pulled my phone away while I was talking to you. And then she locked me in the bathroom during the ceremony! I couldn’t do anything else about it! Why didn’t you stop her when you got here?”

The real kicker came later that evening. Amanda knocked on our hotel room door, smiling as if nothing had happened.

Adam and I were sitting on the bed, eating our way through the room service dessert menu.

“So,” she said, leaning against the cupboard in the room. “Kyle and I need your tickets to Chile for the honeymoon. I mean, there’s no point in you guys using them after all.”

But I smiled, keeping my voice calm.

“Of course, sweetie. You can have the tickets. You and Kyle deserve some fun.”

Amanda squealed, hugged me, stole a strawberry from one of the plates, and let herself out.

“What the hell, Mabel?” Adam asked. “Really? She’s taking our honeymoon too? We worked so hard for all of this. Our wedding, our honeymoon, all of it. And for what? For Amanda to behave like a brat?”

“I know you’re upset,” I said. “But honey, trust me. She’s going to learn a lesson. Two days from now, you’ll see.”

And just like clockwork, Amanda phoned two mornings later, her voice anything but cheerful.

“How could you do this to me, Mom?!” she screamed.

I smirked, cradling the phone to my ear.

“Amanda, darling, is something wrong?”

I bit back a laugh. The tickets had been for Chile, technically. But they were only a layover on the way to our real destination: an Arctic expedition. Glacier hikes, frigid waters, and polar bear sightings.

It was our dream trip. But Amanda? She hated the cold. Luxury resorts and tropical beaches were more her style.

Classic Amanda. She had never bothered to check the full itinerary.

“You asked for the tickets, Amanda,” I said.

“You’re a married woman now. Figure it out.”

She hung up on me, already muttering a series of curses. And I couldn’t stop grinning.

Meanwhile, Adam and I made new plans. My sister and our closest friends rallied together to throw us the most beautiful wedding celebration at Jess’s house a week later.

They handled everything, from catering to decorations, and it was even more perfect than I could have imagined.

Since Amanda had hijacked my original wedding, all the presents went to us. A brand-new espresso machine, luxury linens, and an all-expenses-paid spa weekend from Adam’s older brother.

It was like karma had gift-wrapped itself for us.

When Amanda found out, she had another meltdown.

“Mom, you stole my wedding gifts?” she shouted over the phone. “Everything was supposed to be left at the wedding venue until we got back from our honeymoon.”

“I think you should stop talking,” I said.

“Mom, you ruined everything for me!” she cried. “I can’t believe you stole my damn gifts.”

“Amanda,” I began, laughing. “Your gifts? You stole my wedding. Consider this a fair trade.”

Adam, at the espresso machine, doubled over and laughed.

As for Amanda’s new marriage to Kyle?

“That boy’s in for a rough ride with her,” Jess said when she came over for tea and cake a few days later.

Amanda might have stolen my fairy-tale wedding, but her happily-ever-after was already on thin ice.

As for Adam and me? We’re better than ever. We did go on our Arctic honeymoon, and it was breathtaking.

Some lessons, I guess, are best learned the hard way. Amanda might never admit it, but I like to think she’s realized that entitlement comes at a cost.

Karma, after all, has a way of evening the score.

What would you have done?

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

My Cousin Intentionally Sewed My Wedding Dress 2 Sizes Smaller – She Was Shocked When She Saw What I Did with It

When Jess and Michael get engaged, her cousin Sarah decided to sew her wedding dress for her as a gift. But during the final fitting, Jess discovers that the wedding dress is two sizes too small. Will Sarah fix her error, or will Jess have to take things into her own hands?

When Michael and I got engaged after being together for four years, my whole family seemed genuinely excited for me.

Sarah even got all of our girl cousins together, along with my best friends, for a night out. Ending in an Airbnb where we continued the party, because I was the first of us to get engaged.

During that night out, Sarah came up to me, a glass of champagne in her hand.

“What?” I asked. “What do you want to do?”

Read the full story here.

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.