In her head, my boundaries were the problem, not the fact that she’d just decided my labor was free.
She left with the dress.
No payment. No plan. Just a smile and a “Love you, babe, text me later!” tossed over her shoulder.
I tried to tell myself she was stressed.
Brides go a little nuts, right?
I texted her a few times about the bill. She dodged each one.
If I called, she’d say, “Can we talk later? I’m at the venue,” or “I’m with Ethan’s mom; it’s hectic, I’ll call tomorrow.”
Tomorrow never came.
And then I realized something simple and stupid. I still hadn’t gotten a wedding invitation.
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