The rest of the evening went off without a hitch. I was surrounded by the people who loved me, and even more, my cousin wanted to do something so intimate by making me a wedding dress.
Everything felt right.
We spent weeks choosing the design and fabrics. We pored over the magazines and websites, and finally, I had an idea in mind.
One day, I met Sarah at her office, ready to take my final measurements so that she could start with my dress.
“You’re going to look amazing,” she said, taking my measurements precisely, jotting down everything carefully on her writing pad.
“Oh, I hope so,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee as Sarah put her measuring tape away. “I’ve been on a strict diet, and I’m finally happy with my weight. So, it’s just about maintaining my figure now.”
“You look good, Jess,” she said. “But if anything changes and you find yourself losing or gaining weight, just let me know, and you can come in for another fitting.”
I nodded and left, eager to see how my dress was going to turn out.
But when I went for the final fitting, things took a turn.
I slipped into the dress, but something was wrong—it was way too small. I couldn’t even zip it up, no matter how hard I sucked in my breath.
“Jess! Are you crazy to gain weight before the wedding?” Sarah asked, her tone dripping with mock concern.
My heart sank. We were two weeks away from the wedding, and judging from this fitting, I didn’t have a dress.
“I haven’t gained any weight, Sarah,” I replied. “I’ve been too stressed to eat. If anything, I should have lost weight because of that!”
Sarah shrugged, barely concealing a smirk that was plastered onto her face.
“Well, I’ll try to fix it, but with the wedding so close, I can’t make any promises. I have other clients waiting for their orders, too, Jess.”
Her words rang loud and clear in my head as I drove away from her office.
And then it hit me — this wasn’t an accident. I recalled the way she spoke to me, and the tone in her voice. There was no remorse in her mistake. There was no mix-up in measurements. There was no weight gain with me.
This was deliberate, and Sarah had made the dress too small on purpose.
“I don’t know what to do,” I told Michael when he got home that evening.
“Show me the dress?” he asked, pouring himself a glass of water.
“What! No!” I exclaimed. “The dress may be a mess, but it’s bad luck for you to see!”
“Look, why don’t you take the dress to Mrs. Lawson? She’s my mom’s friend, and she does all her alterations. She’s making Mom’s dress for the wedding, too.”
So, I gathered the awful dress and went to Mrs. Lawson, who was a retired seamstress with a reputation for miracles.
“Oh, honey,” she said when I walked in. “Michael phoned me and told me all about the mess. But I’ve seen the worst and made it a hundred times better.”
“This might be tricky, though,” I said, showing her the dress.
“Honey, I’ve seen it all, trust me. Let’s make this work,” she chuckled.
Together, we transformed the original design into something completely new. A chic, short, cocktail-style dress that was bold, unconventional, and a bit edgy for a wedding.
But it was absolutely stunning. It was everything Sarah’s dress wasn’t: fun, flirty, and perfectly me.
When it was time to walk down the aisle, my heart raced. I stood in the bridal suite of the wedding venue and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked beautiful. I felt beautiful.
As my dad walked into the room to get me, his jaw dropped.
“My darling,” he said. “You look incredible! Wow!”
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I know it’s not what we all envisioned me wearing for my wedding, but it’s been the best surprise. I feel like a bride.”
“That’s the only thing that matters, darling,” he said.
Soon, my entrance music began, and goosebumps appeared all over my body as a classical version of a Lana Del Rey song took over the room.
Heads turned.
And I felt the buzz of admiration follow me as people watched me walk in. I knew that my dress was a hit.
When I got closer to Michael, his eyes widened, and his smile took over his face. I knew then that the man I was about to marry fell in love with me all over again.
But before I took my place next to Michael, I turned to Sarah, wanting to see her expression first.
Her face was priceless: she was pale and shocked. I knew she had expected to see me in tears, humiliated by her sabotage and wearing that horrible dress she had designed.
Instead, I was glowing, smiling from ear to ear.
The ceremony went off without a hitch, Michael’s vows leaving me in tears and my heart full of love for the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with.
But then came the reception.
Michael and I were mingling with our guests when Sarah cornered me.
“Jess, what happened to the dress? Where’s my original design? Why did you change it?” she asked, trying to hide her confusion.
I grinned.
“Oh, I thought I’d take your design and make it better! Remember, you weren’t even sure that you could do anything about it. And I was bursting out of it because it was at least two sizes too small.”
“So, that’s it? You just threw away my hard work?” she gasped. “That’s low!”
“No, Sarah, your work is the foundation of this dress. It’s just a hundred times better because the woman who fixed it wanted me to look and feel beautiful on my wedding day.”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Around us, guests kept complimenting my dress, calling it unique and stunning.
Sarah had no choice but to stand there and listen.
“Come on, love,” Michael called to me. “Let’s do our first dance so that I can really get into the buffet after! The roast beef is to die for!”
“I’m coming,” I smiled, finally happy.
What would you have done?
This Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year
This Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year
It started off innocently enough. Selene parked her car in the wrong parking spot, fueling a prank war with Paul, the real owner of the parking spot. As the months went by, the pair continued their prank war, but Selen started to wonder about the future of these seemingly innocent practical jokes. She took matters into her own hands and asked Paul out for dinner, under the guise of someone else. Will it be the ultimate prank or something more?
It all began with a parking mishap. It was just one innocent mistake that spiraled into a year-long prank war with my neighbor, Paul.
An apartment building parking lot | Source: Unsplash
One evening, I accidentally parked in Paul’s parking spot in our apartment building’s lot. It was late, I was exhausted, and I just wanted to crawl into bed.
I didn’t think much of it until the next morning when I was on my way to the office. There, on my car, on an empty takeaway cup, a note was scrawled in messy handwriting.
A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Pexels
Thanks for ruining my day.
“Oh, crap,” I said to myself when I sat in the car. I needed to make amends.
A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels
The following morning, I left a warm cup of coffee on Paul’s car roof with a note that read:
Sorry for the mix-up. I hope this makes up for it.
A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels
If you’re wondering, Paul and I didn’t know each other. We just lived in the same apartment block and knew everyone’s names and door numbers.
A few days later, I found a bill from a car-washing service under my windshield wiper. It seemed that Paul didn’t notice the coffee that I left and spilled it all over his car when he drove off.
A car in a car wash | Source: Pexels
I refused to pay the bill, and thus, the little war began.
“I think that you and this mysterious Paul are either going to fall in love or end up despising each other,” my friend Daphne said at work.
A smiling woman holding a folder | Source: Pexels
“Probably the latter,” I said. “It was all fine until he gave me a bill.”
“Selene,” she said knowingly, “I’m telling you, this is just the beginning.”
The next day, I left my work phone number on his car.
Call me regarding the payment.
A piece of paper on a car | Source: Midjourney
Paul called me later that evening.
“Really? You thought that leaving coffee on the roof of a car was a good idea?” he asked, going straight into it.
“How was I supposed to know that you’d drive off without looking? Besides, it was a peace offering!”
A man using a phone | Source: Unsplash
“More like a disaster,” he said. “It was all over my window. Pay the car wash bill, please.”
“I’m not paying for it,” I said, hanging up.
After that, the pranks escalated quickly.
Spilled coffee in the air | Source: Pexels
“I told you,” Daphne said when she came home with me one evening. “It’s going to get more intense. You need to listen to me. Trust me on this, you and this guy are going to get under each other’s skin.”
“I don’t know about that, Daph,” I said, dishing out the curry we had bought for dinner.
Bowls of curry and rice | Source: Unsplash
“But you’re having fun?” she asked, tearing into a piece of bread.
“I am!” I said. “Mainly because it’s nothing serious.”
Flatbread on a board | Source: Pexels
One day, I found my car doors wrapped in plastic wrap.
The next week, I retaliated by covering Paul’s car in sticky notes, each one asking him to fix his parking.
A person tearing through plastic wrap | Source: Pexels
“If it rains tonight,” Paul said, immediately calling me after seeing the sticky notes, “you’ll have a mushy mess of paper to clean up.”
“I think you’ll figure it out for yourself,” I said, hiding behind my curtain.
A car covered in sticky notes | Source: Midjourney
I had to admit, I was attracted to him. I didn’t know if Paul knew who I was, but it was easier for me to watch him from my apartment. I had gotten used to watching him wash his car.
It turned out that it was comforting. There was a sense of intimacy that we had built up.
A person hiding behind blinds | Source: Unsplash
After months of back-and-forth pranks, ranging from balloons tied onto car handles and window wipers, to fake parking tickets, I decided that it was time to end the war.
“But you need a grand finale,” Daphne said as we sat in our office, trying to work through month-end reports.
A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels
“Like what?” I asked, typing away at my keyboard.
“You’re into him, right?” she asked, sipping her coffee.
“I think so,” I said. “But I don’t know much about him.”
A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels
“Then get to know him,” my friend pressed on. “There’s something there; if not, this would have ended a long time ago.”
“Fine,” I said. “But you write the note. He knows my handwriting now.”
We intended to write a note from a secret admirer.
A person writing a note | Source: Pexels
“She can just be someone from your apartment,” Daphne said. “And it’s not like you and Paul have even interacted in person, Selene. To be honest, I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay anonymous for so long.”
“It’s the thrill of it,” I said.
A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash
Early the next morning, I left the note that Daphne had written on Paul’s car.
Hey, I saw you leaving your car and couldn’t help but notice how handsome you are. Let’s have dinner?
I added my personal number that he wouldn’t recognize at the bottom.
A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney
To my surprise, Paul called me later that morning.
“Selene, you’ll never guess what happened!” he said excitedly. “Some woman left me a note on my car.”
“Really?” I asked, feigning surprise. “What did it say?”
A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels
“She said that I was handsome and she wanted to have dinner. She left her number, too. So, I’m going to text her and go.”
Paul took the bait and texted me. We set up a date, and I, still pretending to be someone else, agreed to meet him at a local restaurant.
A table at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
I was already seated, suddenly nervous. We had been at this for so long; what if everything blew up in my face?
What if I was living in a romantic comedy and Paul actually couldn’t stand me?
Almost ready to leave, Paul walked into the restaurant.
A man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, you’re here! You look familiar,” he said. “But I suppose I have seen you around the building.”
He spoke quickly, as though he was just as nervous.
“I’m sure that’s exactly it,” I said, smiling.
A smiling man | Source: Pexels
“Your voice reminds me of my neighbor, Selene. I’m sure you’ve seen us pranking each other recently,” he chuckled, his eyes glazing over as if lost in a memory.
“What’s that been like?” I asked.
A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Well, Daphne,” he said, as I had introduced myself over text, “it’s been hilarious. It’s been the best few months of my life.”
“It sounds like she’s grown on you,” I said, smiling.
“She’s feisty, all right,” he said, ordering himself a whiskey.
A man holding a glass of whiskey | Source: Pexels
The rest of the evening went by smoothly, but the more Paul spoke, the more I found myself genuinely enjoying his company. He was charming, funny, and surprisingly sweet.
By the time our meals arrived, I couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer.
Plates of food at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney
“Paul,” I said, picking up my cocktail, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What’s that?” he asked, looking me in the eye.
“I haven’t been very honest about this date,” I said slowly. “I’m Selene.”
A cocktail on a table | Source: Pexels
Paul’s jaw dropped.
“Wait, really?” he asked. “Why did you want to meet like this?”
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “Call it insecurity? Daphne is my best friend; I asked her to write the note, and I used her name. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have deceived you.”
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
“No, no,” he said, a large smile forming on his face. “I’ve never had this much fun with anyone. I’m glad we got to meet. Finally.”
The rest of the evening went much smoother, knowing that we had something in common. It was something to bond over. And more than that, there was chemistry between us. It wasn’t just me.
“I’m glad we did this,” Paul said as we went our separate ways in the parking lot. “It needed to happen.”
An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels
“And now, we’re here,” I said, taking his hand, suddenly feeling brave.
I don’t know where our relationship will go or what it will become, but I do know that I’ve taken the first step toward something.
What would you have done?
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
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