When Mary and George become grandparents, they want nothing more than to spoil their granddaughter, Ellie. But as Ellie grows into herself, and is almost off to college—the couple have to teach her a lesson in understanding whom to trust with her heart, and their money.
The moment my daughter, Monica, was married, I realized that George and I had finally earned our time off. We were the parents of a married woman, who would eventually give us grandchildren.
A bride and groom | Source: Pexels
And until those grandchildren came into our lives—we were going to take advantage of the healthy years we had left.
A few years later, Monica and Eddie gave birth to our only granddaughter, Ellie.
A newborn baby girl | Source: Pexels
Time flew with George and I doting on her. She was our chance at redemption—for us to parent correctly.
“This little girl is everything,” George said when we came home from the hospital on the day Ellie was born.
“We’re going to give her all that we can, Mary, okay?” he said as we got into bed.
An unmade bed | Source: Pexels
I agreed. This was our opportunity to do everything correctly—and we had money now, so spoiling our granddaughter was something that we could do.
Fast forward to eighteen years later.
Now, Ellie is in high school, almost on her way to college. She grew up in front of us with all the attitude that Monica had as a child—and George and I relished every moment of it.
A teenager sitting on the floor | Source: Pexels
But then, Ellie’s attitude changed. Her feisty personality was no longer cute but rather something that threatened to change everything about her.
That Sunday morning began like any other, with the breeze taking over the kitchen as I did the weekly pancake and bacon breakfast. It was a routine that George and I had established so many years ago, that it was almost second nature now.
Pancakes with bacon and eggs | Source: Pexels
George made us cups of tea—the way he always did—when the doorbell rang, slicing through the calm morning.
I switched off the stove and went to answer.
Tea being poured | Source: Unsplash
There she was, our granddaughter, standing at the threshold, her eyes completely avoiding mine.
“Hi, darling,” I said, stepping aside to let her in. “You’re just in time for breakfast!”
Ellie frowned slightly and nodded to George when he came to see who was at the door.
A red door with a metal doorknob | Source: Unsplash
“Come on, the bacon is extra crispy,” George told her, reaching out to hug her.
But Ellie shook her head.
“Look, I’ll get straight to the point,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, betraying the cold front that she was putting up.
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Unsplash
Everything was odd about her behavior. Usually, she would barge in with hugs and kisses, and would ask us about our health. She would bring us cookies—always made with less sugar. She would make her love known.
But today, Ellie was a shadow of the child that had grown up in front of us.
A tin of cookies | Source: Unsplash
“You remember Tom?” she asked, casually.
Tom was her boyfriend. He was already in college and living off student loans. George and I had met him a few times and he had seemed decent enough. But there was always something about him that seemed off to me.
A smiling young man | Source: Unsplash
“I don’t know what she sees in him, Mon,” I told my daughter one afternoon when we went to a coffee shop to catch up.
“I don’t know either, Mom,” Monica said, digging into a slice of cake. “Eddie isn’t happy about her dating someone older, but you know Ellie. She made her case about it, saying that Tom was good for her. And that he was helping her understand the transition between high school and college.”
A table in a coffee shop | Source: Unsplash
Now, Ellie leaned against the wall and continued to speak.
“Tom’s got this startup idea, right? And it is all about renewable energy or something along those lines. He has been speaking to lots of people—advisors and so on. It could be big. Like huge. But there’s a catch. He needs cash to really get it going.”
People sitting around with plans | Source: Unsplash
I watched as my granddaughter took her phone out of her pocket. She continued to avoid eye contact with us.
George and I exchanged a glance. I had a feeling of what was going to come next.
A person holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
But still, Ellie’s words felt like a punch to the gut, delivered with a coldness that I couldn’t believe. It wasn’t something that I had ever associated with her.
“I need you guys to sell the house and move in with Mom and Dad. You’ll get a lot of money from this house, especially because of the neighborhood. It’s a good thing. And you’re old anyway, don’t you want to be back with Mom?”
A person holding house keys | Source: Pexels
“And then what?” I asked.
“And then you can give the money to Tom for his project!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.
George’s cup clattered against the saucer, his brow furrowed deeply in pain and disbelief at the disrespect coming from Ellie.
A disappointed old man | Source: Unsplash
“Ellie,” he said. “This is our home. Not some investment to cash out. It is filled with every memory of us, of our family. Why would you ask us to just give it up for a business venture that sounds like a scheme?”
I remained silent. I didn’t want to step in yet. I sat down on the couch, waiting for George to make Ellie see reason.
Ever since she was a little girl, he was the one person to get her to calm down and get back to herself.
An old woman sitting on a chair | Source: Pexels
“Because you’re my grandparents!” Ellie’s voice cracked, her usual composure slipping. “You should want to help me. Tom’s idea will work. You’ll see. We just need this startup capital.”
The room filled with a tense silence, the kind that suffocates.
I could see the desperation in her eyes, a wild, unsettling determination. It was clear that she was lost in her love for Tom, seeing only what she wanted to see.
A close-up of a teenage girl | Source: Unsplash
But I knew in my gut that Tom wasn’t the right person for her. Despite the age difference, there was just something wrong about them.
George and I exchanged a look of shared heartache. We both knew that confronting her directly wouldn’t help—it would only drive her away and try to find the money in a different way.
“We’ll see what we can do,” George told her.
A smiling old man | Source: Unsplash
After she left, we sat down, the weight of her visit pressing down on us. I began to wash the dishes, letting George come up with a plan.
“We need to show her, not tell her, about this man’s true character,” he said, his voice resolute.
George went into an elaborate scam about creating a fake lottery ticket.
“Don’t worry, Mary, Johnny is a wizard on his computer, he can create it for us.”
A person washing dishes | Source: Unsplash
Johnny was our neighbor’s son, and he was always creating posters for missing pets around the neighborhood.
George’s idea was a harmless trick meant to unveil Tom’s intentions without causing permanent scars. We spoke to Johnny, ordering a ticket designed for a jackpot winner and sent it to Tom anonymously—suggesting that it was a lucky draw from a local store.
Man using a laptop | Source: Pexels
The result was more immediate and devastating than we’d anticipated.
Two days later, as I was vacuuming the living room, Ellie returned, her face pale and streaked with tears.
“What happened?” I asked, enveloping her into my arms.
“Tom’s gone,” she said. “Grandpa told me what he did. And as soon as Tom thought that he had won, he packed his bags. He left to start his real life in the Caribbean—without me.”
A crying teenage girl | Source: Pexels
Her voice broke, and my heart with it.
I knew that Tom was going to end in heartbreak, but I didn’t think that it was going to happen so soon.
“I thought he loved me,” she whimpered. “How could I have been so blind?”
I stroked her hair, feeling her shudder with each sob.
A woman comforting a girl | Source: Pexels
“Oh, sweetheart, we didn’t want to hurt you like this,” I murmured, my own eyes damp with sorrow. “We just needed to see if he was the real deal before all of our lives changed to help him.”
As the weeks turned into months, Ellie’s wounds began to heal. She spent more time with us, bringing her art material and setting herself up in the living room.
Eventually, Tom was just another part of her growing up experience.
A person holding their art | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
When Eliza’s 10th wedding anniversary comes around, she hopes that Tom will take her away for a romantic getaway. But when he forgets about their anniversary and needs to work, she turns it into a girls’ weekend, only for her to see that Tom’s business trip is a rendezvous with his mistress.
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.
SIL Ruined My Wedding Dress on Purpose – No One Believed Me until I Exposed Her on My Wedding Day
On the day before my wedding, I discovered my $8,700 dress had been sabotaged by my sister-in-law, Beth. As the truth unfolded amid the ceremony’s joy, an unexpected confrontation and a secret recording revealed Beth’s shocking motive, leaving the outcome of my wedding day hanging in the balance.
I stood in front of the mirror, anxiety churning in my stomach. My wedding dress, the one I had dreamt about for years, had looked perfect in the bridal shop. Now, hanging on my bedroom door, encapsulated in a fine white crepe, it felt surreal.
“Grace, how’s your dress looking?” Jack called from downstairs.
“Almost dressed!” I shouted back, my hands trembling as I smoothed the fabric.
A bride in a wedding dress | Source: Pexels
Beth, my soon-to-be sister-in-law, had offered to alter my dress for free weeks ago. Her reputation as a skilled seamstress preceded her, yet something about her offer felt off. But with our wedding budget maxed out, I accepted.
“I still can’t believe Beth is doing this for you,” Mom had said, with skepticism in her voice.
“Yeah, it’s very generous,” I had replied, masking my doubts.
A woman sewing | Source: Pexels
I slipped into the dress and began to zip it up, but something felt wrong. The bodice was misshapen, seams gaping. The delicate lace was crudely cut, threads hanging loose. My excitement turned to horror.
“Oh my God,” I whispered to myself, tears welling up.
“Grace, what’s wrong?” Jack asked from downstairs, concern in his voice.
“The dress is ruined,” I choked out, trying to hold back sobs.
A woman in a wedding dress | Source: Pexels
“What do you mean? Let me see. I want to check it myself,” he said, starting up the stairs.
“No, Jack, you can’t. It’s bad luck to see the dress before the wedding.”
“Are you sure? Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks,” he insisted, stopping at the door.
“It is. It’s destroyed. How could she let this happen?” I said, my voice breaking.
A mean leaning on his fist | Source: Pexels
“Are you sure it wasn’t a mistake?”
“No,” I said to myself as much as to Jack, my voice barely a whisper. “This isn’t just an accident. She butchered it.”
Jack’s voice softened. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We have to.”
I called Beth, hands trembling. “Beth, what happened to my dress?”
A woman in a wedding dress looks at her phone | Source: Pexels
“What do you mean?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“It’s destroyed. How could you let this happen?”
“Grace, calm down. I’m sure it’s not that bad. Maybe you’re overreacting.”
“I’m not overreacting. It’s unwearable.”
“Look, I’ll come over and fix it.”
“No, Beth. You’ve done enough.”
A woman glances in a compact mirror | Source: Pexels
I hung up, fury and despair warring within me. How could she do this? I thought of our strained conversations, her snide remarks. It all made sense now.
“I need to call my mom,” I said, my voice shaking.
Jack’s voice was firm through the door. “We’ll get through this, Grace. We won’t let her ruin our day.”
My parents arrived soon after, shocked and saddened by the state of the dress.
An older woman helps another undress | Source: Pexels
“We’ll find a way,” my mom said, although her eyes reflected my own doubts.
The next few hours felt endless, filled with a whirlwind of emotions and desperate attempts to find a solution. The following day was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. Instead, it felt like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
As dawn broke the next day, I resolved to expose Beth’s deceit. She wouldn’t get away with this. Not on my wedding day.
A rack containing wedding dresses | Source: Pexels
I decided to take matters into my own hands. I couldn’t let this ruin my wedding day. With no other choice, I rushed to the nearest bridal shop and bought a new dress. It wasn’t my dream dress, but it would have to do.
The wedding preparations went into overdrive. The air buzzed with excitement and the scent of fresh flowers. I slipped into my new dress, feeling both nervous and determined. The memory of the destroyed dress still stung, but today was my day.
A man walks a bride down a church aisle | Source: Pexels
The guests arrived, their curious glances lingering on my gown. I spotted Beth among them, her eyes widening in shock. She quickly masked her reaction, but I saw the flicker of anger.
As the ceremony proceeded, we gathered for the official photos. My family lined up for the “all-family photograph,” everyone smiling for the camera. Beth stood beside me, her smile rigid. The photographer positioned us, urging us to hold our smiles.
A photographer composes a wedding photo | Source: Pexels
“Grace, why didn’t you wear the dress I altered for you?” Beth muttered through clenched teeth, her smile never wavering. “Do you not appreciate all the hard work I put into it?”
I kept my smile fixed, my voice low. “Beth, the dress was unwearable. It was completely ruined.”
“Ruined?” Beth hissed, her eyes glinting with malice. “I spent hours on that dress! You obviously don’t value my effort.”
A family poses for a wedding photograph | Source: Pexels
“Beth,” I said calmly, though my insides churned, “since you thought the altered dress was so well done, why don’t you wear it to your own wedding? Consider it my gift to you.”
Beth’s face turned a deep shade of red, but she held her smile for the camera. The photographer finally snapped the picture, everyone relaxed, and Beth stormed off to find space among the crowd of onlookers with Adam, her fiancé.
A wedding videographer films the bridal couple | Source: Pexels
I turned to the wedding videographer, who had been capturing candid moments. “Could you film over there?” I asked, pointing to Beth and Adam. “I want to remember everything about today, even the behind-the-scenes moments.”
The videographer nodded and moved closer to them, his camera discreetly in hand. A little while later, he approached Jack and me inconspicuously. “I think you’ll want to see this,” he said, showing us the footage on his camera.
A man positions a microphone | Source: Pexels
The video audio revealed Adam asking Beth, “Why are you so upset? Getting an $8,000 wedding dress for free is great news!”
Beth’s response was a low, bitter hiss. “No, I tried my best to make it ugly, and now it’s mine, she gave it to me. What am I supposed to do with a ruined wedding dress?”
My heart raced as I processed the confession. I turned to Jack, feeling both vindicated and saddened. He squeezed my hand, his eyes filled with support.
A video camera playback screen | Source: Pexels
“We need to show this to everyone,” Jack said.
We moved to the vestry to sign the marriage register, the minister guiding us through the formalities. The room was small, intimate, filled with family and close friends. The air felt thick with tension and anticipation.
The videographer positioned himself carefully, ready to capture everything. As the minister handed me the pen, I took a deep breath. “Before we continue, there’s something everyone needs to see,” I announced, my voice steady, and with a nod at the videographer.
A hand signing a document | Source: Pexels
The videographer played the recording. Adam’s voice filled the room, asking Beth why she was upset about getting an expensive dress for free. Her response, full of frustration, was clear: “What am I supposed to do with a ruined wedding dress?”
Gasps filled the vestry. My family stared at Beth in shock, their disbelief turning to anger. Adam stepped away from Beth, his face a mask of confusion and humiliation.
“Beth, how could you?” my mom whispered, her voice trembling.
A bridal couple embrace | Source: Pexels
Beth’s eyes darted around, but she found no support. “I just… I wanted a dress as nice as that for myself, but there’s no way in hell my family could afford it,” she muttered, her bravado crumbling.
“I’m so sorry, Grace,” my dad said, his voice heavy with regret. “We should have believed you.”
“It’s okay, Dad,” I replied, feeling a wave of relief.
A recently-married couple dancing | Source: Pexels
The minister cleared his throat, bringing us back to the moment. “Shall we proceed?” he asked gently.
With a renewed sense of solidarity, we signed the register. The burden of Beth’s betrayal was lifted, replaced by the warmth of family and friends who stood by us.
Beth stood alone, her reputation in tatters. As we left the vestry to continue the celebration, I glanced back at her, feeling a sense of closure.
Despite the drama, Jack and I enjoyed our wedding day, surrounded by love and support. The ordeal had made us stronger, more resilient.
A man kisses his bride | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
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