{"id":703,"date":"2025-03-09T18:20:20","date_gmt":"2025-03-09T18:20:20","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/readmore.cx\/?p=703"},"modified":"2025-03-09T18:20:20","modified_gmt":"2025-03-09T18:20:20","slug":"703","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/readmore.cx\/?p=703","title":{"rendered":""},"content":{"rendered":"
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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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Yes, I cried on our first date because I was late. I rushed into the restaurant, breathless and embarrassed.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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My eyes welled up as I tried to explain\u2014traffic, spilled coffee, a broken shoe. Michael sat there, silent, clearly unsure of what to do.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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We made it through dinner, but he didn\u2019t call me for a week. I assumed I had scared him off.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Then we ran into each other at a mutual friend\u2019s party. I explained myself, saying I was just an emotional person. To my surprise, he understood and admitted he was the same.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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That party was six years ago, and we had been inseparable ever since. I was no longer crying alone over movies where animals died\u2014Michael cried with me. He was my soulmate, and I knew he felt the same.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Our relationship moved quickly. After just three months, we moved in together, and that\u2019s how we lived for six years.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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But somehow, we never got around to planning a wedding. There was always something\u2014either I had a crisis, or Michael did\u2014so we kept postponing it.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Then, eight months ago, Michael proposed. He planned everything so well that I didn\u2019t suspect a thing, making the moment even more special. Not that I needed a proposal to know I wanted to spend my life with him.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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But, like with any couple, there was one problem. His family. More specifically\u2014his brother, Jordan.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Jordan was awful. Rude, arrogant, and full of himself. He thought he was better than everyone, including Michael.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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He was only three years older but never missed a chance to remind Michael that he was the older brother.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I still remember our first meeting. Michael took me to meet his parents, and since Jordan still lived with them\u2014yes, even as an adult\u2014he was there too. So much for being as \u201camazing\u201d as he thought he was.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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At first, everything seemed fine. We had a polite conversation. But when I stepped away to use the bathroom, Jordan was waiting by the door.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cBored yet?\u201d Jordan asked, his voice low and smug.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I stiffened. \u201cNo, I\u2019m fine,\u201d I replied, keeping my tone polite but firm.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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He chuckled. \u201cCome on, let\u2019s go have some fun,\u201d he suggested, stepping closer.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I took a small step back. \u201cNo, really, I\u2019m good,\u201d I said cautiously. A strange feeling crept up my spine.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Jordan tilted his head. \u201cOh, come on. My brother doesn\u2019t deserve someone like you.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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You\u2019d have a much better time with me,\u201d he said. His voice was smooth, but his eyes held something cold.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Before I could react, he grabbed me by the waist. His hand slid lower, pressing against my backside.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cGet off me!\u201d I shouted, shoving him away. My heart pounded as I rushed back to the dining room, my breath shaky.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Michael looked up as I approached. I placed a hand on my stomach, forcing a weak smile. \u201cI don\u2019t feel great. Can we leave?\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Michael stood immediately. \u201cOf course.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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His parents looked concerned. \u201cIt was so nice to meet you, Danica,\u201d they said as we hugged goodbye.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Once we were in the car, Michael glanced at me. \u201cAre you okay? Did you eat something bad?\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I took a deep breath. \u201cJordan hit on me,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Michael\u2019s hands tightened on the wheel. \u201cWhat? That jerk!\u201d His jaw clenched. \u201cI\u2019m going to talk to him.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Michael did talk to Jordan, but Jordan laughed it off. He claimed he was just \u201ctesting me\u201d as Michael\u2019s older brother, as if that excused his behavior. I didn\u2019t believe him for a second, but Michael didn\u2019t push back.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Sometimes, I wondered if he was afraid of Jordan. Growing up, Jordan had bullied and teased him constantly.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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He always found ways to make Michael feel small, like he was less than him. Their relationship had never been close, but Michael still tried to keep the peace.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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But when Jordan wouldn\u2019t stop, even Michael had to admit it wasn\u2019t a joke anymore.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Then the messages started. Inappropriate texts. Unwanted pictures. Disgusting words. I blocked his number.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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When I told Michael I didn\u2019t want Jordan at our wedding, he agreed right away.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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One evening, Michael came home looking drained. He sighed and dropped onto the couch beside me, his shoulders heavy with tension.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cWhat happened?\u201d I asked, noticing the way his shoulders slumped.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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He rubbed his face and let out a long breath. \u201cI talked to my parents. They said if Jordan isn\u2019t invited to the wedding, they won\u2019t come either.\u201d His voice was quiet, heavy with frustration.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I felt a sharp sting in my chest. \u201cThat\u2019s not fair!\u201d I said, my hands tightening into fists.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cI know,\u201d Michael murmured, staring at the floor.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cThe way he treats me is reason enough for me not to want him there. He harassed me, sent disgusting messages. Why does that not matter to them?\u201d My voice wavered.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Michael didn\u2019t answer. He just sat there, looking lost.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I exhaled, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. \u201cFine. We\u2019ll invite Jordan,\u201d I said, my voice tight.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Michael lifted his head. \u201cAre you sure?\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cNot that we have much of a choice. But your parents need to make sure I don\u2019t have to see him,\u201d I said firmly.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Michael wrapped his arms around me. \u201cYou\u2019re the best,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The wedding day finally arrived. My heart was so full I thought it might burst.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I had dreamed about this moment for years, and now it was finally here. I was marrying the man I loved more than anything, and nothing could ruin my day. Not stress, not nerves, not even Jordan.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Or so I thought.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I was in the bridal room at the church, standing in front of the mirror as my bridesmaids helped me with the final touches.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The dress was perfect. Everything was perfect. Then, there was a knock at the door.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Smiling, I turned to open it. My breath caught when I saw Jordan standing there.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cWhat are you\u2014\u201d Before I could finish, he lifted a bucket and, in one swift motion, dumped its contents over me. Cold, sticky liquid drenched my dress, my skin, my hair.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cThis is for rejecting me, witch,\u201d he sneered.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I gasped. The smell of paint hit me first. Bright green dripped from my arms. My beautiful white gown was ruined.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cAre you insane?!\u201d I screamed, my voice shaking.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Jordan only laughed, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, then slammed the door in my face.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the chair, sobbing. My bridesmaids rushed in, their faces horrified.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cOh my God,\u201d one of them whispered.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cWe need water,\u201d another said, grabbing a towel.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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They scrubbed at my dress, but the paint had already soaked in. There was no saving it.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Stacy grabbed my shoulders. \u201cStay here. I\u2019ll find a white dress\u2014anything.\u201d She ran out before I could answer.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I wiped my face, but more tears came. This wasn\u2019t how it was supposed to be.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I couldn\u2019t stop crying. I had spent months picking out my wedding dress, searching for the perfect one, imagining how I would look walking down the aisle.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Now, I\u2019d have to wear something I had never even seen before. My hair was completely green, streaks of paint clinging to the strands. My bridesmaids worked quickly, pinning it up and covering it with my veil.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cIt\u2019ll be okay,\u201d one of them whispered.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cWe\u2019ll wash it after the ceremony,\u201d another promised.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The ceremony was already supposed to have started, but Stacy was still missing.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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The minutes dragged on, each one heavier than the last. My bridesmaids paced, checking the time, whispering in worried tones.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Finally, the door burst open. Stacy came running into the room, breathless, her face flushed. In her hands, she held a surprisingly beautiful dress.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cJordan told everyone you ran away. Michael is freaking out,\u201d she blurted.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I froze. My stomach twisted.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cHE DID WHAT?!\u201d I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Stacy nodded. \u201cPeople are whispering. Michael looks like he\u2019s about to pass out.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I clenched my fists. My chest burned with anger. \u201cThat\u2019s it. I\u2019ve had enough.\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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I reached up, ripped off my veil, and let my green-streaked hair fall loose. Gasps filled the room. My bridesmaids stared, wide-eyed.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Without another word, I stormed out. My dress stuck to my skin, the paint dry in some places, still dripping in others.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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As I stepped into the church, heads turned. People whispered. My heart pounded, but I pushed forward.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Michael stood at the altar, his hands clenched, his face pale. He looked devastated.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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\u201cI didn\u2019t run away!\u201d I shouted. My voice cut through the murmurs.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Michael\u2019s head snapped up. \u201cDanica?\u201d He rushed down the aisle and pulled me into his arms.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

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Tears stung my eyes, but I forced them back. \u201cJordan poured green paint on me,\u201d I said, stepping back and gesturing to my ruined dress. \u201cThen he lied and told everyone I left!\u201d<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

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<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney Yes, I cried on our first date because I was late. I rushed into the restaurant, breathless and embarrassed. My eyes welled up as I tried to explain\u2014traffic, spilled coffee, a broken shoe. Michael sat there, silent, clearly unsure of what to do. We made it through dinner,…<\/p>\n

Read More “”<\/span> »<\/a><\/p>\n

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