Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Stephanie appear at the end of the hallway.
Her eyes narrowed. “So this is it? You let her embarrass us in that cheap rag? James, everyone probably laughed behind her back. Do you realize how pathetic this makes our family look?”
Dad turned slowly, his arm tightening protectively on my shoulder. His voice was calm but firm, like steel wrapped in velvet.
“No, Stephanie. She looked radiant tonight. She honored her mother, and I’ve never been prouder of her.”
Stephanie scoffed, crossing her arms.
“Oh, please. You two are so blinded by sentiment. This family will never get anywhere with that poor-man mentality. You think a five-dollar dress makes you special? You’re nothing but small people with even smaller dreams.”
My chest tightened, but before I could speak, Dad stepped forward, his voice sharper now.
“That ‘five-dollar dress’ belonged to my late wife. It was her dream to see Megan wear it, and my daughter made that dream real tonight. You just insulted her and her mother’s memory.”
“And you wanted to ruin her mother’s dress? The one promise I told her she could always count on?”
Stephanie blinked, caught off guard.
“I… I was protecting our image. You know how people talk.”
“No,” he said, stepping in front of me. “You were tearing down everything Megan had left of her mother. And I will never let you hurt her or her mother’s memory again.”
She laughed bitterly. “You’re choosing her over me?”
“Every time,” he said.
Her eyes darted to me, full of venom. “Ungrateful brat.”
Grandma’s voice rose from the living room. “I’d watch your words, Stephanie. You’re lucky I didn’t tell James worse.”
My stepmom went pale.
She grabbed her purse and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
“Fine. Stay in your little bubble of grief and mediocrity. I won’t be part of it.”
Dad turned back to me and brushed a loose curl from my cheek.
“She’s gone,” he said. “But your mom would be so proud of you.”
“I know,” I whispered, and for the first time in a long time, I truly believed it.
Grandma, who had stayed after fixing my gown to tell Dad what happened with Stephanie, waited up late to see me when I got back from prom. She left after my stepmom’s rant and came back the next morning, bringing over muffins.
We all sat in the kitchen — me, her, and Dad — for the first peaceful breakfast in years.
That night, I hung the lavender dress back in my closet.
It was proof that love had survived.
Just like me.
