My Daughter’s Wedding Dress Arrived Completely Black — but That Wasn’t the Real Disaste

When my daughter Jane walked down the aisle, she wasn’t in the ivory gown we had spent months perfecting—she wore black.

The night before, Jack seemed off. The next morning, Helen arrived with the dress, but it wasn’t white—it was black. Jane was calm. “I need to do this, Mom,” she said.

At the ceremony, whispers filled the room. Jack’s confidence shattered as Jane stood before him. Then, her vow: “With this dress, I bury my hopes—because real love doesn’t betray you days before the wedding.”

Jack begged, but Jane let her bouquet fall and walked away. Outside, she whispered, “One day, I’ll wear white—for the right man.”