It was the day that I had been waiting for. After months of wedding planning and dieting to fit into my dream dress. This was the moment.

“Come on, darling,” my father said, holding out his hand, ready to walk me down the aisle to Jason.

“How do you feel?” my father asked me, kissing my forehead.

“Happy,” I said simply. “I’ve been dreaming of this moment for years now, Dad.”

We walked down the aisle to soft music that I had chosen months ago. The guitarist perched on a wooden stool.

“You look beautiful, Emily,” Jason said, taking my hand from my father.

The ceremony began with the priest talking about love and commitment, just as he had told us he would.

“It’s time for the vows,” the priest said, smiling at us both.

“Jason, you are my best friend, and I’ve always wanted to marry my best friend. I promise to support you, to always laugh with you, and to grow with you. I vow to be faithful and cherish every moment we have together. In this life, and the next.”

My sister sighed next to me, wiping away her tears.

“Jason,” the priest said. “It’s now your turn.”

Jason looked at me and smiled, and then he turned to his groomsmen, causing them to snigger.

“Emily, my love,” he said. “I promise to always be there for you, even when you’re nagging me to take out the trash because you think the house smells.”

Jason’s groomsmen chuckled.

“And I’ll always hold your hand, especially when we’re walking through spider-infested areas because we all know how much you love those eight-legged critters.”

The groomsmen laughed louder. Some of our guests joined in.

And still, Jason continued.

“I vow to remind you to pick up your dragging feet when you walk, so we can avoid another trip to the emergency room like that time you tripped over absolutely nothing. And to taste all the burnt lasagna in the world because that’s your signature dish.”

The more Jason spoke, the more embarrassed I got.

I frowned at him, hoping that he would understand that there was nothing beautiful or romantic about his words. But he ignored me and continued.

“Also, I will tolerate your singing in the shower. It may sound like a cat in distress but at least it makes me appreciate good music! And most importantly, Emily,” he said.

“I promise to forgive you for basically forcing me to propose to you after you left those bridal magazines all over the apartment.”

My jaw dropped.

I didn’t know how to react. Jason’s groomsmen were all but falling over each other with laughter.

“Really?” I whispered to him.

Jason winked.

“Now, it’s time for you to exchange rings,” the priest said.

Jason’s niece came up to the altar with the wedding rings tied onto a little cushion that she clutched tightly.

“Here you go, Aunty Emily,” she said nervously.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” I said, taking the rings from her.

Holding the rings, I realized I didn’t want to put Jason’s ring on his finger. We were married now, all but for signing the registration book.

But after hearing Jason’s vows, I didn’t know if I wanted to be with this man.

“Give me your hand,” Jason said, pulling my hand.

He slid the ring onto my finger and held his hand out for me to do the same.

My stomach turned. Suddenly, my dream bubble had burst. Nothing felt as it had moments before.

“Jason, you may now kiss the bride!” the priest exclaimed.

Jason grabbed my waist and pulled me close to him, his other hand gripping the back of my neck. He kissed me without passion or feeling.

“What on earth was that?” I asked Jason when we were doing our photographs before the reception.

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning.

“Your vows,” I said. “They were insensitive and embarrassing.”

“No! They were cute!” he said. “I kept them true to us.”

“You basically told everyone that I’m a nag and clumsy. And that I forced you into marrying me.”

I crossed my arms and waited for some kind of explanation.

“Oh, come on, Emily,” he said. “Everyone was laughing. It’s not as deep as you’re making it. Let’s just do this photoshoot and go back to the party. I am starving.”

I bit my tongue. I didn’t have it in me to fight.

At the reception, Jason truly let himself go. He went overboard with the drinks and ate enough steak and potatoes to make anyone sick to their stomach.

“Mom,” I said, kneeling next to my mother before the formalities began. “I don’t feel good.”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” my mother asked.

“Jason…” I said, my voice trailing as the weight of my uneasiness set in. “Those vows were nothing but an embarrassment.”

“Maybe it was just nerves, Emily,” my mother said. “You know how Jason can be sometimes.”

“I don’t know, Mom,” I said. “I just feel like the magic has escaped.”

Soon after, the emcee got up and began the formalities. Jason’s brother stood up and spoke about how we met and his first impressions of me.

“I didn’t think Emily would stay!” Jackson laughed, his beer bottle in his hand. “But I guess she knows how to deal with my brother.”

It went on and on, and my husband ate up his brother’s words, chuckling loudly.

Then, it was time for my father-in-law’s speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have a few words to say to my son and his new bride, the lovely Emily,” he said.

I held my breath. I had always gotten along with Robert, and he had always treated me well. But I had thought the same of Jason until his vows were said.

I didn’t know if I had to prepare myself for something from Robert, too.

If I had to be honest with myself, I just wanted to run away. I didn’t feel like a bride. I didn’t feel much like anything. I didn’t even feel like myself.

I wanted to rip off my wedding dress and get into my comfiest pair of sweatpants. I wanted to cry.

“Jason, do you know what makes a marriage work, son?” Robert asked.

“Uh, love? Attraction? Chemistry?” Jason said, faltering.

Who on earth is this man? I wondered to myself.

“It’s respect,” Robert said, shaking his head. “It’s about cherishing your partner and never making them feel small or embarrassed. Today, you turned your vows into a series of jokes at Emily’s expense. That was not only inappropriate but also deeply hurtful.”

I glanced around and saw some of the guests were shaking their heads.

“To teach you a lesson, Jason,” Robert continued. “I’m going to share something about you that you might find equally embarrassing.”

“What? Dad! Stop!” Jason said, standing up.

“Jason still sleeps with a nightlight. He says that it’s because he likes to read in bed, but we all know that it’s because he’s afraid of the dark.”

Laughter erupted through the room.

“And let’s not forget about the time when Jason tried to cook for Emily and set off the fire alarm because he didn’t know that normal people don’t put metal in microwaves.”

“Dad, just stop it,” Jason hissed.

“Or about the time when he got drunk after a party, and insisted that he needed to sleep on the floor in my bedroom.”

The crowd laughed louder.

“I shared these stories not to embarrass you, Jason. But to show you how it feels. Humor at someone else’s expense isn’t funny, it’s cruel. You need to understand the consequences of your actions.”

I smiled at Robert, finally feeling seen.

“Emily, on behalf of my son, I apologize. Jason still has a lot to learn about being a loving and respectful partner. But I know that he can do better, and I hope you give him the chance to prove it.”

“I’m so sorry, Emily,” Jason said from beside me. “I thought I was being funny, but I see how ridiculous I was being. Give me another chance.”

“Fine,” I said. “But it’s going to take more than just empty words to fix this.”

I want to give us another chance, but something still feels very off.

What would you do?

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.