I thought a small tattoo would add some excitement to my wedding. My future mother-in-law, Diane, said it would thrill her son, Mark. But when Mark saw it, he went pale and walked away from the altar, leaving me heartbroken.
I never felt lucky in love. But when Mark proposed at our favorite diner, holding a tiny ring box, I thought my luck had changed.
“Will you marry me, Miss Always-Orders-Fries?” he teased. I laughed, tears in my eyes, and said, “Yes.”
We were overjoyed, planning our wedding with silly debates over flowers and tasting every cake flavor we could find.
Everything was perfect until Mark’s ex, Tara, entered the picture. “I hired her,” Mark said one night, avoiding my gaze. “She’s struggling and needed a job.”
“Your ex?” I asked, my stomach tightening. “There’s nothing between us, Sarah,” he said. “I just couldn’t abandon her.”
I nodded, trying to trust him, but Tara was everywhere—bringing Mark lunch, laughing at old memories, working late with him.
When I texted, “When are you home?” he’d reply, “Tara and I are finishing a project. Don’t wait up.”
I felt alone, choosing my dress with my sister and planning the reception with my mom while Mark was with Tara.
“Should I call off the wedding?” I asked my sister one night. “No way,” she said. “You’re the bride, not Tara. Relax.”
I tried, but I felt uneasy. Then Diane called. “Surprise!” she shouted. “I’m throwing you a bachelorette party—dancing, drinks, the works!”
“I wasn’t planning one,” I said, hesitant. “Nonsense!” she said. “You need to have fun before the big day!” She hung up before I could argue.
I felt a twinge of doubt. Diane’s excitement seemed too intense, like she had her own plan.
At the party, a beach-themed club with bright lights and loud music, Diane greeted me with a sparkly hug. “Here’s our bride!”
“This is too much,” I said, seeing my friends, some looking as confused as I felt. “You deserve this, Sarah,” Diane said, grinning.
I wasn’t so sure. Mark had canceled his bachelor party, working late with Tara again. I texted him, but he didn’t reply.
Diane noticed my mood and handed me a drink. “Worried about Mark and Tara?” she asked. I nodded, admitting, “He’s been distant.”
“Lucky for you, Tara’s not the one he’s marrying,” Diane said. “But men need a little thrill to stay interested. A surprise.”
“Like what?” I asked, curious. She pointed to a tattoo booth with an artist sketching. “A tattoo!” she said. “Something bold.”
She showed me a design—a white rose, simple but striking. “Mark will love this behind your ear,” she said.
“I’ve never wanted a tattoo,” I said, unsure. “Come on,” Diane urged. “Do something daring. Keep him guessing.”
Her words sank in. Maybe a tattoo was my “something new” for the wedding. I gave in, nervous but excited.
I sat for the tattoo, feeling the sting as the rose took shape on my neck. Diane clapped. “You look fearless, Sarah!”
I wasn’t sure I liked it, but I hoped Mark would. Still, a knot in my stomach warned me something was off.
The wedding day was magical—flowers everywhere, soft lights, my dress perfect. I felt like a princess walking down the aisle.
Mark smiled at me, his tie a little messy, just how I loved it. “You’re stunning,” he whispered as I reached him.
The officiant spoke about love and promises, but I was lost in Mark’s eyes, feeling safe. Then I brushed my hair back.
Mark’s smile vanished. His eyes locked on my neck, wide with shock. “Sarah, what’s that?” he asked, voice sharp.
“It’s a tattoo,” I said, confused. “A white rose. I thought you’d like it.” His face darkened, and he stepped back.
“Are you kidding me?” he said, loud enough for guests to turn. “This is a joke, right?” My heart raced. “Mark, it’s just—”
“I can’t do this,” he said, turning and walking away, leaving me alone as whispers filled the air.
I stood frozen, my world crumbling. Then I saw them—Diane and Tara, standing together, watching like it was a play.
Diane smirked, calm and pleased. Tara flipped her hair, revealing the same white rose tattoo on her neck.
My blood ran cold. I marched toward them, shaking. “What did you do?” I demanded, glaring at Diane.
“Calm down, dear,” Diane said, grabbing my arm. “Not in front of everyone.” I pulled away. “You set me up.”
“You wanted to stand out,” Diane said, smug. Tara grinned. “Didn’t recognize the tattoo? Jason did.”
“Why does he know it?” I asked, voice trembling. Diane sighed. “It meant something special to them—a lost child.”
“Lost child?” I repeated, stunned. Tara laughed. “There was no child. Just a story to keep Mark hooked.”
“You lied to him?” I said, horrified. “And tricked me into copying it?” Diane nodded. “You’re too plain for my son.”
“You used me to hurt him,” I said, sickened. Tara shrugged. “Now he’ll never forget you either.”
I felt dizzy, betrayed. “You’re awful,” I said, turning to leave. Then I heard Mark’s voice. “Sarah.”
He stood there, pale, staring at Diane and Tara. “I heard it all,” he said. “I came back because I felt something was wrong.”
Tara stepped back. Diane’s confidence faded. “You lied about a child,” Mark said to Tara, voice breaking. “And Mom, you used that lie to hurt Sarah.”
He looked at me, eyes soft. “You didn’t know. You were just trying to surprise me. I love you.”
“I thought I lost you,” I said, tears falling. “You saved me from their lies,” he said, taking my hand.
Diane spoke up, nervous. “Sarah, I was wrong. I let jealousy take over. I’m sorry.” Her apology felt hollow.
Mark ignored her, leading me back to the altar. Guests watched, stunned, as the music started again.
We stood together, his hand in mine, and said our vows, stronger than ever, ready for a life built on truth.