My Stepmom Tried to Keep Me from My Dad’s Wedding — But Things Didn’t Go as She Planned

My Stepmom Locked Me in So I’d Miss Her Wedding with My Dad — But She Didn’t Count On One Tiny Detail That Changed Everything

When my stepmother kept me inside to prevent me from getting to the altar, she believed she had everything worked out. Her ideal day was completely ruined by a single, little detail that she failed to notice.

Hold on tight. I still can’t believe this.

I am thirty years old. My father is sixty-one. He also informed me that he was getting married again around three months ago.

“To Dana!” he exclaimed, his eyes as bright as a teenager’s. “A little wedding is being held. Only family and close pals.

Dana. Fifty-something. wears high heels as if they were cemented to her feet. She always sounds like she’s making a sales pitch. She’s composed of 30% negative energy and 70% Botox, I promise.

I didn’t despise Dana. I made an effort. Really, really made an effort. Her jokes made me chuckle. even the ones that were illogical. I grinned as I ate each tasteless, overdone casserole. One Christmas, I bought her a lovely scarf.

It was never worn by her.

She made it obvious right away that I wasn’t welcome. Of course, not completely. It would have been too forthright. In a thousand small ways, though.

Dana would act strangely whenever Dad and I were re-establishing our relationship, such as when we were laughing at dumb films or reminiscing about the past. She would begin to cough. Say she had a migraine instead. She even once reported having food illness twice in one week.

“She’s just sensitive, honey,” my dad would say. You are aware of her stomach’s condition.

Yes, hypersensitive to avoiding the spotlight.

Instead of treating me like a daughter, she treated me like a ghost. Not even a human. It was simply a remnant of a life she didn’t want to face. I did, however, turn up. All holidays. each birthday. each Sunday.

Then Dad made the big call.

He said, “We’ve got a date!” “Next month! I’m getting married to Dana!”

“That’s great, Dad,” I murmured over the phone, pretending to smile. “I’m happy for you.”

She wishes to keep things modest. You are aware of her personality. Only those who are close.

“Of course,” I responded. “Whatever makes you both happy.”

I never received an invitation. Don’t text. Not a card. Dana has not responded. I didn’t worry about it, though. I assumed she was simply being herself. I still desired to help my father.

I purchased a basic dress in powder blue. paired it with a pair of short heels. I took Friday off from work in order to arrive early and lend a hand. Perhaps arrange chairs or something.

Dad called two weeks prior to the wedding.

He said to me, “Dana says you should stay with us,” “No need to waste money on a hotel.”

That made me think.

I questioned, “She said that?”

“Yes, she demanded. claimed that she wanted to make things simple for you.

Oh. That sounded nothing like Dana. I didn’t argue, though.

“Okay,” I replied. “I’ll be there Friday night.” I was, too. It was just after seven when I arrived.

Dana opened the door with a half-smile.

Then she said, “Long drive?”

I answered, “Not too bad,” and pulled my luggage inside.

She indicated the guest room while passing me a mug of lukewarm tea.

Down the hall is the loo. We have a big day tomorrow, so don’t wake us up.”

She vanished into her chamber. After a few minutes, Dad emerged wearing slippers and sweatpants.

He said, “Hey, kiddo,” and embraced me. “Glad you made it.”

We chatted into the night. Just the two of us on the couch, remembering the day our old car broke down in Kentucky and going on road vacations.

I felt well when I went to bed at midnight. Even hopeful. What awaited me was unknown to me.

Sure, I was a bit anxious when I got up the following morning, but I was more thrilled to watch my dad get married. No matter how I felt about Dana, he still valued this day.

After rolling over, I reached for my phone.

Lost.

Strange. I was certain I had left it on the counter in the kitchen. Before turning in for the night, I recalled plugging it in. I padded into the kitchen after getting up. Nothing.

No phone. No coffee. There is no fragrance of breakfast. Not a sound. It felt dead all around.

I looked at the crucial hook. empty. I felt my stomach sink a bit.

I turned the handle of the entrance door after walking over there. It remained stationary. There was a deadbolt locked. I attempted the rear entrance. The same thing. Next, the windows. They were all securely locked.

My voice said, “Dana?”

Nothing. I rapped on the door of her bedroom. Quiet.

Make the knock louder. “Dana? “Hello?”

Nothing has changed.

I saw it at that moment. There’s a bright yellow Post-it note on the kitchen counter, nicely placed. Curly, try-too-hard letters written in Dana’s handwriting.

“Avoid taking things personally. Simply said, it’s not your day.

I just stood there, motionless. I was shut in by her. My phone was taken by her. My keys. My voice. As if I were a problem that she could hide behind a door.

I was at a loss for what to do for a moment. I had trembling hands. My chest was constricted. The anger followed. I called out her name. hammered the walls. paced erratically. They had nowhere to go and were all dressed in powder blue.

I gazed at the door as if I could will it open, mascara already smudging beneath my eyes. Then, thankfully, I recalled something.

My phone was taken by her. My keys were taken by her. She did not, however, take my Apple Watch.

As though my life depended on it, I tapped the screen. It felt impossible to use the small keyboard, but I managed.

Me: Please give me a call NOW, Tasha. I was locked in by Dana. I’m serious.

Tasha: What? Where have you gone?

Me: Dad’s flat. The guest room. My phone was taken by her. The keys are gone. The door is deadbolted.

No response for a moment. Next:

Tasha: I’m in the car already. Arrive by ten o’clock.

I might have started crying. I nearly did. After ten minutes, I heard someone knocking. Then there were voices. The front door then opened with a squeak.

With her hair in disarray and her eyes wide, Tasha stood there in her leggings. A startled concierge stood next to her.

“You look like you just escaped a horror movie.”

I sprinted over to her. “Tasha, she locked me in. similar to a dog.

Tasha gave a headshake. “Incredible. Are you prepared to ruin a wedding?

I grabbed my heels and exclaimed, “Oh,” “I was born ready.”

We hopped into her car as if it were a getaway car. The wedding had already begun when we arrived at the location. mellow music. rows of visitors. My dad and Dana were heading down the aisle together.

Everything appeared flawless. Until I shoved the rear doors open. Shocks. actual gasps.

Everybody looked. Dana’s expression contorted as if she had seen a ghost. I was afraid my dad could lose circulation because of how tightly she gripped his arm.

I didn’t even blink as I strode down the aisle.

I said, “Dad,” in a quiet but firm voice, “you forgot something.”

He blinked. “Honey? “What are you doing?”

I displayed the Post-it note.

He studied the note. His hands began to shake.

Dana leaped in. “I—I simply wanted no drama! You are aware of her tendency to make everything about herself.

I looked over at her.

“You prevented me from attending your wedding by locking me in a room. You abducted me because you really wanted me gone. Dana, you are the drama. I am simply the manifestation of the truth.

That was the fissure that caused everything to fall apart.

My aunt got to her feet. “Is that why you didn’t let me invite the rest of the family?”

“She told me her stepdaughter refused to come,” said another in a whisper. lied directly in front of me.

The whisper grew. A wave of incredulity and indignation. With watery eyes, my dad gazed at Dana. He enquired, “Did you do this?”

Despite opening her mouth, she remained silent. He let her arm fall.

“I’m sorry,” he remarked to everyone present. “I need a moment.”

He left through the back. I did the same. I told him everything outside. From Tasha’s rescue to the Apple Watch and the missing phone. He remained motionless, gazing at the gravel.

“She really did that to you?” he asked at the end.

I gave a nod. “Dad, I didn’t want to cause any trouble. All I wanted was to be present.

He didn’t respond. simply went back inside. With a racing heart, I followed.

He cleared his throat as he approached the altar.

“I can’t do this.”

Another gasp. Dana appeared to be about to pass out.

“This isn’t the person I want to spend my life with,” he stated. “The wedding is off.”

There was utter silence in the room.

Dana broke down in tears. “I completed it for us! I desired for everything to be flawless.

However, perfection was never the goal. It has to do with control. She also didn’t expect me to defend myself.

Dad left the condo a few weeks later. Before Dana could even unpack her outfit, he filed for annulment. As he gazed at me during a dinner one evening, he added, “I saw her for who she really was because of you.”

For years, I was portrayed as challenging. sentimental. Someone who causes difficulties. However, none of those things applied to me. All I was doing was trying to keep my lone remaining parent safe.

Being the antagonist in someone else’s fairy tale just indicates that you were the protagonist in your own.

I’ll never regret showing up, either.