My Groom’s Mother Slapped Me at the Wedding, Not Realizing I Was the Bride
She held up a receipt: a receipt for the funeral flowers, the wine that destroyed my dress, and a payment to the hair stylist to make mistakes. All were paid for with Victoria’s credit card, all with her signature.
“We’re keeping this. Evidence.” I said, tucking it into my bra.
“Five minutes to ceremony,” someone called.
It was showtime. I stayed in my coordinator disguise as the ceremony began, standing at the back of the church with my clipboard like I was checking off important tasks.
Victoria had positioned herself in the front row, her white dress gleaming like a beacon of narcissism. Cassandra sat beside her, practically vibrating with anticipation.
The music started, and the bridesmaids began their walk. Jenny winked at me as she passed.
Then came the moment: the bride’s entrance. Except I wasn’t walking down that aisle yet.
Victoria’s head whipped around like something from The Exorcist.
“Where is she?” she hissed loud enough for the first five rows to hear.
I approached her calmly.
“There seems to be a small delay, Mrs. Blackthornne.”
That’s when it happened. She stood up, her face purple with rage, and slapped me across the face—hard.
The crack echoed through the church like thunder.
“You stupid, incompetent fool! You had one job: to make sure that gold digging tramp got down this aisle so I could expose her! One job!”
The entire church gasped. The organist stopped mid-note, and you could have heard a pin drop in that silence.
And that’s when Marcus’s voice cut through the air like ice.
“Mother, what did you just do?”
He was standing at the altar, but he’d seen everything. The microphone on his lapel—the one for the wedding video—had picked up every word and broadcast it through the church’s sound system.
Every single word. Victoria turned, her face shifting from rage to confusion.
“Marcus, darling, I was just disciplining the help. This coordinator is completely incompetent. She can’t even find your bride!”
“Mother,” Marcus said, walking down from the altar with slow, deliberate steps.
“I’d like you to meet someone.”
He reached for my hand, and I took it, pulling off the emergency veil and letting my hair fall free. The vintage makeup couldn’t hide who I was anymore, not with Marcus beside me.
“Mother, meet my bride. The woman you just assaulted. The woman you just called stupid. The woman you’ve been plotting against all morning.”
Victoria’s face went from purple to white so fast I thought she might faint. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air.
Behind her, Cassandra looked like she’d been struck by lightning.
“But… but…” Victoria stammered.
“Oh, there’s more.” Marcus continued, his voice still deadly calm.
“Tom told me about Cassandra’s attempt to seduce him. The fake evidence you planted, the destroyed dress, the funeral flowers—everything.”
Eleanor wheeled herself forward.
“I told you, Victoria. I told you 40 years ago when you married my son: money doesn’t make you better than anyone. But you never listened.”
The microphone was still on. Every guest in the church had heard everything—300 people, including Victoria’s entire country club, her charity board friends, and, most importantly, the Blackthorn family board of directors.
“This isn’t what it looks like!” Victoria tried, but her voice was weak now.
“It’s exactly what it looks like.” I finally spoke, my cheeks still stinging but my voice steady.
“You tried to destroy my wedding because I don’t fit your narrow, bigoted view of who deserves your son. But here’s what you didn’t count on: Marcus loves me. His father loves me. Your mother loves me. This family chose me, Mrs. Blackthornne. The question is, what are they going to choose about you?”
Marcus’s father, Richard, stood up from his seat. He’d been silent until now, but the look on his face said everything.
“Victoria, we need to talk. Now.”
“Richard, darling, you don’t understand!”
“I understand perfectly. You assaulted our daughter-in-law in a church in front of 300 witnesses while being recorded.”
