My mom always found a way to ruin my happiest moments. This time was no different. However, I made sure that she never did it again with my revenge.
Five years ago, I was beyond excited for my senior prom. I had been looking forward to it for months, imagining the perfect night with my friends, dancing and celebrating the end of high school. I never imagined my own mother would ruin the experience for me.
Two women having conflict at home | Source: Pexels
I went shopping for a dress for my senior prom with my best friend. It was a sunny morning and we were both giddy and could not contain our excitement while getting ready.
Two women laughing together | Source: Pexels
We stepped into the store and looked around, seeing beautiful dresses in every corner. However, one pink gown caught our attention and I instantly liked it.
It was a gorgeous mermaid-style dress and I bought it right away. When I got home, I showed my mom the dress without actually putting it on. She didn’t have any noticeable reaction.
A woman in a pink dress | Source: Pexels
The skirt needed hemming, so my mother said she would take me to her friend who does tailoring. I thought she was being supportive. Little did I know, that was the calm before the storm.
After giving my dress to her friend, she said she was ashamed to be seen with me in the dress and that I had shamed her in front of her friend. I was really upset.
A depressed woman at home | Source: Pexels
I was flabbergasted by my mother’s comments and completely blindsided by her offer to help with the dress. It did not make sense that she offered to have it fixed while knowing she did not like it.
A few days later, I took the dress and simply burst into tears. She had REMADE it into a BAG, covering the upper and lower parts. In only an hour, mad as hell, I was realizing my revenge plan.
A sad woman crying | Source: Pexels
On prom day, when I went out of the house for photos, my mom almost FAINTED as I took her favorite dress and remade it into the same dress I bought for the prom.
“Grace, what have you done?! That’s my favorite dress!” my mom gasped.
“Oh, you mean the one you ruined? I thought I’d return the favor,” I said calmly.
“How dare you! That dress was expensive and important to me!” she exclaimed, furious.
“Just like my prom dress was important to me. But you didn’t care about that, did you?” I replied firmly.
Mother and daughter arguing in the bedroom | Source: Pexels
“I was just trying to protect you. That dress was inappropriate,” she tried to compose herself.
“No, you were trying to control me. You were ashamed of me for no reason. This is my prom, and I deserve to feel beautiful and confident. If you can’t support that, then you need to deal with the consequences,” I shook my head.
“I didn’t realize how much it meant to you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” she said, looking defeated.
Mother and daughter arguing | Source: Pexels
“It’s too late now, Mom. I hope you understand how it feels to have something you care about destroyed,” I softened slightly.
“I do, and I regret it. But you didn’t have to ruin my dress to make your point,” she sighed.
“Maybe not. But now you know what it feels like. Let’s just hope we can move past this,” I took a deep breath.
“I do want to move past this. I’m really sorry, and I want to make it up to you,” she said tearfully.
“We’ll see. For now, I have a prom to attend. I hope you understand why I did what I did,” I hugged her briefly.
“I do. Go have a wonderful time at your prom. You look beautiful,” she nodded.
A woman in a red dress | Source: Pexels
With that, I left the house, feeling a mixture of vindication and sadness. I knew that our relationship would need time to heal, but I felt empowered for standing up for myself. As I arrived at prom, I felt confident and beautiful in my dress, ready to enjoy the night with my friends.
The evening was a success as I made great memories. We danced, laughed, and took countless photos. However, when it all ended and I had to go back home, it was back to reality. I knew that my relationship with my mom needed mending.
Teenagers during senior prom night | Source: Pexels
From that day onwards, our relationship was strained. We spoke less often, and when we did, it was usually brief and tense. My mom seemed to avoid the topic of the prom entirely.
It was as if she was trying to pretend it never happened. I, on the other hand, couldn’t forget it. The hurt and betrayal lingered. Over time, we started to have more open conversations about our feelings. One evening, a few months after prom, I sat down with her.
A mother comforting her daughter | Source: Pexels
“Mom, we need to talk about what happened,” I began, feeling a lump in my throat.
She looked at me, her eyes softening. “I know, Grace. I’ve been thinking about it too. I’m really sorry for what I did. It was wrong.”
“I appreciate that, but it’s not just about the dress. It’s about how you made me feel. Like my choices didn’t matter,” I said, holding back tears.
A mother standing behind her daughter | Source: Pexels
She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “I was wrong to try and control you. I thought I was protecting you, but I see now that I was just being selfish. I’m so sorry, Grace.”
“I need you to trust me and support me,” I replied, reaching out to hold her hand.
“I will. I promise. I just want us to move past this and be close again,” she said, squeezing my hand.
Mother and daughter holding hands | Source: Pexels
It wasn’t an instant fix, but it was a start. We both made an effort to meet each other halfway to understand one another a bit more and that made all the difference, which made us happy.
Slowly, our relationship began to heal. We learned to communicate better and respect each other’s boundaries. It took time, patience, and a lot of honest conversations, but eventually, we rebuilt the trust that had been broken.
A mother and her daughter embracing each other | Source: Pexels
Now, looking back, I realize that that incident was a turning point for both of us. It taught us the importance of respect and understanding in our relationship. We both learned valuable lessons and although it was a painful experience, it brought us closer in the end.
A mother and daughter hugging | Source: Pexels
On My Wedding Day, My Mother-in-Law Handed Me a Note—I Fled Through the Back Door and Disappeared for 15 Years.
My eyes locked onto my mother-in-law, whose face looked as if she had just seen a ghost. In her trembling hand, a small envelope shook, and her eyes were frozen in an expression of pure panic. The loud music in the grand banquet hall of the old mansion drowned out all other sounds, making our conversation completely private.
That sunny May morning was supposed to be perfect. My fiancé Sergei’s family mansion was impeccably prepared to welcome the guests. Waiters meticulously arranged crystal glasses, and the air was filled with the scent of fresh roses and fine champagne. The luxurious portraits framed in gold seemed to silently observe everything happening in the room.
— “Anastasia, have you noticed that Sergei is acting strangely today?” my mother-in-law whispered, glancing around anxiously.
I frowned. Indeed, Sergei had been tense all day. Now, he stood at the far end of the room, pressing his phone to his ear, his face rigid, as if he were hiding something.
— “Just pre-wedding nerves,” I tried to brush it off, adjusting my veil.
— “Look at this. Right now,” she murmured, slipping an envelope into my hands before quickly disappearing into the crowd, regaining her poised demeanor and polished social smile.
Curious and unsettled, I found a discreet corner and hastily unfolded the note. My heart stopped.
“Sergei and his family plan to get rid of you after the wedding. You are part of their scheme. They know about your family’s inheritance. Run if you want to live.”
My first instinct was to laugh. This had to be some kind of cruel joke from my mother-in-law. But then I recalled Sergei’s suspicious conversations, which he always cut short whenever I appeared. His sudden coldness, the secretive glances…
My eyes met his across the room. Sergei had ended his call and was now watching me. There was something different about his gaze—it wasn’t the man I had fallen in love with, but a stranger, a predator.
— “Nastya!” my bridesmaid called excitedly. — “It’s time!”
— “Coming! I just need to use the restroom!”
I ran out into the street through the service corridor, taking off my shoes.
I caught a taxi outside the gate and asked the driver to take me to the station. An hour later, I was already on a train to another city, dressed in purchases from the station store.
I wonder what story Sergei will come up with? Will he pretend to be a sad groom or will he show his true face?
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. A new life awaited me ahead.
Changing yourself for the sake of safety – that’s what fifteen years of practicing perfect coffee means.
“Your favorite cappuccino is ready,” I put the cup in front of a regular guest of a modest cafe on the outskirts of Kaliningrad. “And a blueberry muffin, as always?”
“You are too kind to me, Vera Andreyevna,” smiled the elderly professor, one of those who regularly warmed up our small coffee shop.
Now I was Vera. Anastasia dissolved in the past along with a white dress and broken hopes. I had to pay a lot for new documents, but the price turned out to be Fully worth it.
“What’s interesting in the world?” I nodded at his tablet, where he was scrolling through the latest news.
“Another businessman caught in fraud. Sergei Valerievich Romanov”
My hand trembled, and the cup slightly clinked on the saucer. A face appeared on the screen – painfully familiar.
“The head of the holding company ‘RomanovGroup’ is suspected of major financial fraud.” And below, in small print: “Conversations continue around the strange disappearance of his fiancée 15 years ago.”
“Lena, do you understand what you’re saying? I can’t just go back!”
I was rushing around the rented apartment, holding the phone to my ear. Lena, the only one I trusted with the truth, spoke quickly and forcefully:
“Anastasia, listen! His company is under close scrutiny, he’s never been so vulnerable. This is your chance to get your life back!”
“What life? The one where I was a frivolous girl who almost became a victim of a murderer?”
“No, the one where you are Anastasia Vitalievna Sokolova, and not some Vera from the coffee shop!”
I froze in front of the mirror. The woman looking at me had become older and more cautious. The first silver threads had appeared in her hair, and a steel glint had appeared in her eyes.
“Lena, his mother saved my life back then. How is she now?”
“Vera Nikolaevna is in a nursing home. Sergei had long ago removed her from the company’s affairs. They say she asked too many questions.”
The Golden Autumn Nursing Home was located in a picturesque place outside the city. Introducing myself as a social worker (and the necessary papers were easily accessible thanks to my savings), I was easily led to Vera Nikolaevna.
She was sitting by the window in a chair – so fragile and aged that it took my breath away. But her eyes – those same, penetrating and tenacious – recognized me instantly.
“I knew you would come,” she said simply. – “Sit down, tell me how you lived these years.”
I told her about my new life – about cafes, quiet evenings with books, about how I learned to start over.
She listened, nodding occasionally, and then said:
“He planned to stage an accident during his honeymoon on a yacht. Everything was prepared in advance.” Her voice trembled:
“And now he sent me here to live out my days because I began to dig up his affairs. Do you know how many of these ‘accidents’ have happened to his partners over the years?”
“Vera Nikolaevna,” I took her hand carefully. “Do you have evidence?”
She grinned:
“Darling, I have a whole safe of evidence. Do you think I’ve been silent all these years in vain? I was waiting. Waiting for you to come back.” The same steel spark that I saw every morning in the mirror lit up her gaze. “Well, dear” she squeezed my hand, “maybe we should give my son a belated wedding surprise?”
“Are you sure you’re one of the auditors?” the secretary looked at my documents with distrust.
“Exactly. The emergency audit is related to recent publications.”
The office allocated to me within the walls of “RomanovGroup” was located two floors below Sergei’s office. Every morning I watched his black Maybach arrive at the main entrance. Sergey had hardly changed – the same impeccable posture, elegant suit, the familiar look of a man who submits to everyone. His lawyers have successfully hushed up the scandal so far, but it’s only a matter of time.
“Margarita Olegovna, do you have a minute?” I turned to the chief accountant passing by. “Did it seem that way, or are there certain… discrepancies in the 2023 financial statements?”
The chief accountant turned noticeably pale. As Vera Nikolaevna had assumed, this woman knew too much and was looking for a way to clear her conscience.
“Nastya, something’s wrong,” Lena’s voice trembled in the phone. “They’ve been following me for two days now.”
“Calm down,” I locked the office. “Is the flash drive in a safe place?”
“Yes, but Sergei’s people…”
“Be ready. And remember – tomorrow at ten, as agreed.”
I went to the window. Two strong guys in civilian clothes were looming at the entrance. The company’s security service began to worry. It was time to speed things up.
“Sergei Valerievich, you have a guest,” the secretary could barely contain the trembling in her voice.
“I gave clear instructions – don’t let anyone in!”
“She says… that you abandoned her at the altar fifteen years ago.”
A heavy silence hung in the office. I resolutely entered, without waiting for permission.
Sergei slowly raised his head from the documents. His face froze into a mask.
“You…”
“Hello, dear. Didn’t expect this?”
He abruptly pressed the button on the phone:
“Security to me!”
“No need,” I put the folder on the table. “The investigation already has your documents. Margarita Olegovna turned out to be surprisingly talkative. And your mother… she spent many years collecting dirt on you.”
His hand reached for the desk drawer.
“I don’t advise it,” I warned. “Shooting will cause unnecessary noise. And the prosecutor’s office is already waiting at the main entrance.”
For the first time, I saw fear appear on his face.
“What do you want?” he muttered.
“The truth. Tell me about the yacht. About the ‘accident’ that was planned.”
He leaned back in his chair and suddenly laughed:
“And you’ve grown up, Anastasia. Yes, I was going to eliminate you. Your inheritance was supposed to be an investment for the business. And then… I had to play the role of a saddened groom for many years, so that no one would ask unnecessary questions.”
“And how many lives have you taken over these years?”
“This is business, babe. There is no place for feelings here.”
The noise behind the door became louder – the investigators were approaching.
“You know what?” I leaned towards him. “Thank you to your mother. Not only did she save my life, but she also taught me patience: sometimes you need to wait a long time to strike the right blow.”
Three months later, I was sitting in my favorite coffee shop in Kaliningrad. The TV screen was broadcasting a court hearing – Sergei was sentenced to fifteen years in prison. That’s how long I spent wandering.
“Your cappuccino, professor,” I put the cup in front of a regular customer.
“Thank you, Vera… I mean Anastasia.” he smiled sheepishly. “Now will you return to your old life?”
“You know, professor… Maybe my old life wasn’t real? Maybe I’m just starting a full life now. I bought this coffee shop and am staying here.”
It was raining outside, filling the air with the freshness of freedom.
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