When Jess and Michael were engaged, her cousin Sarah wanted to make her wedding dress as a gift. However, at the final fitting, Jess realizes that the wedding dress is two sizes too small. Will Sarah correct her mistake, or will Jess have to take matters into her hands? My cousin Sarah and I have always had a complex connection. She’s outgoing and effervescent, yet she also needs attention. Because of this, our entire family gave her the attention she desired. It made more sense to focus the attention on Sarah rather than ourselves.

When Michael and I got engaged after four years together, my entire family appeared genuinely happy for me.

Sarah even gathered all of our lady cousins, along with my best pals, for a night out. I was the first to get engaged, so we extended the party in an Airbnb.

During that night out, Sarah approached me with a glass of champagne. “Jess!” I have a fantastic idea!” she said.

“What?” I asked. “What do you want to do?” “I want to make your wedding dress for you!” she shouted, dancing to the music.

Sarah is now a skilled seamstress who has created some stunning dresses in her brief career. Despite our troubled history, Sarah creating a garment for me seemed like a fantastic idea.

“Really?” You would do that for me?” I inquired, moved by the gesture.

“Of course, Jessica!” It will be perfect!” She answered with a smile that appeared honest at the time.

The rest of the evening proceeded smoothly. People who loved me surrounded me, and my cousin wanted to do something even more private: create a bridal dress for me.

Everything felt right. We spent weeks selecting the design and cloth. We browsed publications and online resources until I came up with an idea.

One day, I met Sarah at her office, eager to take my final measurements so she could begin working on my dress.

“You’re going to look amazing,” she added, taking accurate measurements and meticulously recording everything on her writing pad.

“Oh, I hope so,” I murmured, sipping my coffee while Sarah put her measuring tape away. “I’ve been following a rigorous diet, and I’m now satisfied with my weight. So it’s simply about keeping my figure now.”

“You look good, Jess,” she commented. “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 departed, excited to see how my outfit turned out.

However, when I went for the final fitting, everything changed.

I slid into the garment, but something was wrong: it was far too tiny. I couldn’t even zip it up, no matter how hard I inhaled.

“Jess! Is it crazy to gain weight before the wedding?” Sarah inquired, her tone full of faux worry.

My heart fell. We were two weeks out from the wedding, and based on this fitting, I didn’t have a dress.

“I haven’t gained any weight, Sarah,” I explained. “I had been too worried to eat. If anything, that should have helped me lose weight!”

Sarah shrugged, hardly covering the sneer on her face.

“Well, I will fix it, but with the wedding approaching, I can’t make any guarantees. I have other clients waiting for their orders, Jess.”

Her remarks echoed in my mind as I drove away from her office.

Then it hit me: this wasn’t an accident. I remembered the way she spoke to me and the tone in her voice. Her error was without regret. There were no measurement errors. There was no weight gain for me.

Sarah intentionally designed the garment to be excessively small. “I don’t know what to do,” I told Michael when he arrived home that evening.

“Show me the dress,” he inquired, pouring himself a drink of water.

“What! No!” I exclaimed. “The dress may be a mess, but it’s bad luck for you to see!”

“Why don’t you take the dress to Mrs. Lawson?” She’s my mother’s friend, and she performs all of her adjustments. “She’s also making Mom’s wedding dress.”

So I took the horrible outfit and went to Mrs. Lawson, a retired seamstress with a reputation for performing miracles.

“Oh, honey,” she murmured as I stepped in. “Michael called and told me all about the disaster. But I’ve witnessed the worst and made it a hundred times better.”

“This might be tricky, though,” I replied, showing her the outfit.

“Trust me, honey. I’ve seen it all. “Let us make this work,” she said, chuckling.

We worked together to change the initial design into something altogether different. The result was a stunning, short, cocktail-style gown that was daring, unique, and a little edgy for a wedding.

But it was just beautiful. It was everything Sarah’s outfit was not: lively, flirtatious, and uniquely me.

When it came time to go down the aisle, my pulse raced. I stood in the bridal suite at the wedding location, looking in the mirror. I looked stunning. I felt gorgeous.

As my father stepped into the room to collect me, his mouth fell.

“My darling,” he added. “You look wonderful! Wow!”

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “I know it’s not what we all expected me to wear for my wedding, but it’s been the best surprise”.” I feel like a bride.

“That’s the only thing that matters, darling,” he told me.

My entrance music soon began, and a classical rendition of a Lana Del Rey song took over the room, causing chills all over my body.

Heads turned.

And I felt a rush of adulation follow me as people watched me come in. I knew my outfit was a success.

When I drew closer to Michael, his eyes expanded and his smile spread across his face. I realized then that the person I was going to marry had fallen in love with me all over again.

But, before I took my seat next to Michael, I glanced at Sarah to observe her face.

Her expression was priceless; she looked pale and shocked. I knew she anticipated seeing me in tears, embarrassed by her sabotage, and wearing the hideous outfit she had created.

Instead, I was beaming and grinning from ear to ear.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, with Michael’s vows moving me to tears and filling my heart with love for the man I would spend the rest of my life with.

Then came the reception.

Michael and I were socializing with our guests when Sarah approached me.

“Jess, what happened with the dress? Where is my original design? Why did you modify it?” she said, attempting to conceal her astonishment. I grinned.

“Oh, I thought I would improve your design! Remember, you weren’t even sure what you could do about it. And I was bursting out because it was at least two sizes too small.

“So, is that it?” You just threw away my hard work?” She gasped. “That’s low!”

“No, Sarah; your labor is the foundation of this outfit. It’s significantly improved because the woman who restored it wanted me to look and feel stunning on my wedding day.

Her lips opened, but no words emerged. Around us, folks began complimenting my attire, describing it as unusual and lovely.

Sarah had no option but to stand and listen.

“Come on, love,” Michael said to me. “Let’s have our first dance so I can thoroughly enjoy the buffet afterwards!” The roast beef is absolutely delicious!”

“I’m coming,” I grinned, finally content.

What would you have done?