I thought I was being clever.
As a silly prank during my hen party, I invited a psychic. The plan? To mess with my future mother-in-law a little. She’d never liked me, and I figured a harmless psychic reading might rattle her. But what started as a joke turned into something much, much bigger. Something that almost tore everything apart.
Let me back up a bit.
From the moment Jacob introduced me to his mother, Ellen, I could tell she didn’t approve. She smiled politely, but her eyes said it all—I wasn’t good enough. And eventually, she stopped pretending.
One day, when Jacob wasn’t around, she looked me straight in the eye and said, “I struggle to understand how someone from your social circle would integrate with our family.”
I was speechless. What do you even say to that?
As we started planning the wedding, things got worse. Every choice I made, she criticized.
“The cake looks cheap.”
“Too many people invited.”
And when I showed her my dress photo, she actually scoffed. “You’re not seriously wearing that? It looks low-quality. Jacob should have better.”
Her comments wore me down, but I tried to stay calm. I loved Jacob, and I didn’t want to cause drama. Still, part of me thought… maybe she’s trying to sabotage this wedding.
That’s when I had the idea: the psychic. Just a bit of fun. I hoped the fortune teller might say something vague but creepy to spook Ellen. That was it. Nothing serious.
The hen party started out perfectly. My closest friends were there. We had wine, music, and laughter. With only one week left until the wedding, I was feeling surprisingly calm.
Then, our guest arrived.
She was exactly what you’d picture—a dramatic purple and gold outfit, flowing fabric, lots of jewelry that jingled when she moved. Her eyes were sharp, intense. She didn’t even have to say anything to have the whole room’s attention.
We sat in a circle. One by one, she gave each of us a fun little reading. Love, joy, paths ahead. All light-hearted. Until she turned to Ellen.
Everything shifted.
Her voice dropped. Her eyes narrowed. And she pointed straight at Ellen.
“You,” she said, slowly. “Your handbag… holds a secret.”
The room froze.
Laughter stopped. Glasses paused mid-air. My heart started pounding. Wait, what? This wasn’t part of the plan.
Ellen shifted in her seat. Her smile was tight. Her fingers twitched on her purse.
“This is ridiculous,” she said with a little laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The psychic didn’t blink. She stepped closer, her voice firmer.
“You’ve done something… something you’ve hidden.”
Everyone turned to look at Ellen. She gave another fake laugh. “I have no secrets,” she said, though her voice trembled a bit.
The psychic tilted her head. “It has to do with a wedding. Something you did to interfere.”
My stomach twisted. A wedding? Was she still playing along, or was this real? I looked at Ellen—she was pale now.
“You’re lying,” Ellen snapped, suddenly standing up. “I won’t listen to this nonsense.”
I took a deep breath and stepped forward. “What’s in your purse, Ellen?”
She clutched it tighter. Her knuckles went white. Everyone was dead silent. Even my friends, who knew this was supposed to be a joke, now looked genuinely concerned.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” Ellen said, her voice shaking. “This is absurd.”
But the psychic stayed calm. “You tried to harm someone close to you,” she said quietly. “It involves the bride. Her gown.”
My heart stopped. My dress?
I felt the blood drain from my face. I looked around—my friends looked as confused as I felt. Ellen’s grip tightened on her bag. “You’re wrong!” she shouted. “I would never—”
“Then show us,” the psychic interrupted. “If you’ve got nothing to hide.”
Ellen stepped back, her eyes darting around like she was looking for a way to escape. “I don’t owe you anything!” she snapped.
That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Let me see,” I said, my voice shaking. “What’s in your bag, Ellen?”
She started backing away, but my friend Sarah reached out. In the scuffle, Ellen’s purse dropped to the floor—and spilled open.
First, a small sewing kit.
Then… a delicate piece of lace.
Not just any lace. My lace. From my wedding dress.
Gasps filled the room.
I stood frozen, staring at it. My brain couldn’t catch up. How did she get that? Why does she have it?!
I looked at her, barely able to speak. “What have you done?”
Ellen’s face turned gray. Her lips trembled. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she whispered.
No one moved.
I stepped closer. “Explain. What did you do to my dress?”
She sat down slowly, like her legs couldn’t hold her anymore. Then she said it.
“I didn’t want the wedding to happen,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I thought if the dress fell apart, maybe Jacob would rethink it all.”
My throat tightened. Tears blurred my vision. She wanted to ruin my wedding dress. She’d gone to the fitting, after I left, and snuck in to snip threads—just enough so the dress would fall apart when I walked down the aisle.
“Why?” I asked, my voice cracking. “Why would you do that to me?”
Tears streamed down her face. “I thought Jacob deserved better. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
Behind me, I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. My mom had been silent the whole time—until now.
“How dare you,” my mom said, her voice calm but ice-cold. She stepped in front of me, shielding me from Ellen. “How dare you try to ruin my daughter’s wedding. Do you know how much she loves Jacob? How hard we’ve worked to include you in everything?”
“I didn’t—” Ellen tried to speak.
“No,” my mom said sharply. “You’ve made it very clear how you feel. You don’t respect my daughter. You don’t respect our family.”
Ellen lowered her head, sobbing quietly.
“This wedding is about love. If you can’t be part of that, then you shouldn’t be there at all.”
The room stayed silent.
Then my mom added one final line. “You will fix this. Or you’re not welcome.”
Ellen didn’t argue. She just nodded, tears still falling.
I stood there, shaking, not sure what would happen next. But one thing was certain—everything had changed.
