My future brother-in-law, Jett, was always trouble—rude, cocky, and constantly crossing lines. But on my wedding day, he went too far, humiliating me in front of everyone and turning my dream day into a nightmare. It was the final straw, and my fiancé, Luca, had finally had enough.
When Luca and I started dating, it felt like a storybook romance. Not perfect, but full of surprises.
I cried on our first date because I was late. I rushed into the restaurant, out of breath and embarrassed.
Tears filled my eyes as I tried to explain—traffic, spilled coffee, a broken heel. Luca just sat there, quiet, clearly unsure what to do.
We got through dinner, but he didn’t call for a week. I thought I’d scared him off.
Then we bumped into each other at a friend’s party. I explained I was just emotional sometimes. To my surprise, he got it and said he was the same way.
That party was six years ago, and we’d been together ever since. I wasn’t crying alone over sad animal movies anymore—Luca cried with me. He was my soulmate, and I knew he felt the same.
Our relationship moved fast. After just three months, we moved in together, and that’s how we lived for six years.
But we never got around to planning a wedding. Something always came up—my crises, his crises—so we kept putting it off.
Then, eight months ago, Luca proposed. He planned it so perfectly I didn’t suspect a thing, making it even more special. I didn’t need a proposal to know I wanted to spend my life with him.
But, like any couple, we had one problem. His family. Specifically, his brother, Jett.
Jett was awful. Rude, full of himself, and always acting superior. He thought he was better than everyone, especially Luca.
He was only three years older but never let Luca forget he was the “big brother.”
I still remember our first meeting. Luca took me to meet his parents, and since Jett still lived with them—yes, even as an adult—he was there too. So much for being as “great” as he claimed.
At first, things seemed okay. We had a friendly chat. But when I stepped away to use the bathroom, Jett was waiting by the door.
“Bored yet?” he asked, his voice low and smug.
I froze. “No, I’m fine,” I replied, keeping my tone polite but firm.
He laughed. “Come on, let’s have some fun,” he said, stepping closer.
I backed up slightly. “No, really, I’m good,” I said carefully. A chill ran through me.
Jett tilted his head. “Oh, come on. My brother doesn’t deserve someone like you. You’d have more fun with me,” he said. His voice was smooth, but his eyes were cold.
Before I could respond, he grabbed my waist. His hand slid lower, pressing against me.
“Get off me!” I yelled, pushing him away. My heart raced as I hurried back to the dining room, my breath uneven.
Luca looked up as I came back. I touched my stomach, forcing a weak smile. “I’m not feeling well. Can we go?”
Luca stood right away. “Of course.”
His parents looked worried. “It was so nice to meet you, Sienna,” they said as we hugged goodbye.
In the car, Luca glanced at me. “You okay? Did you eat something bad?”
I took a deep breath. “Jett hit on me,” I said.
Luca’s hands tightened on the wheel. “What? That jerk!” His jaw clenched. “I’m going to talk to him.”
Luca did confront Jett, but Jett brushed it off, saying he was just “testing me” as the older brother, like that made it okay. I didn’t buy it, but Luca didn’t push harder.
Sometimes, I wondered if Luca was scared of Jett. Growing up, Jett had bullied and teased him constantly, always making Luca feel small. Their relationship was never close, but Luca still tried to keep things peaceful.
But when Jett kept going, even Luca couldn’t deny it wasn’t a joke anymore.
Then the messages started. Inappropriate texts. Unwanted photos. Disgusting words. I blocked his number.
When I told Luca I didn’t want Jett at our wedding, he agreed immediately.
One evening, Luca came home looking worn out. He sighed and sank onto the couch beside me, his shoulders heavy.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, seeing his slumped posture.
He rubbed his face. “I talked to my parents. They said if Jett’s not invited to the wedding, they won’t come either.” His voice was low, full of frustration.
My chest tightened. “That’s not fair!” I said, my hands clenching.
“I know,” Luca murmured, staring at the floor.
“The way he treats me is reason enough to keep him away. He harassed me, sent awful messages. Why doesn’t that matter to them?” My voice shook.
Luca didn’t answer. He just sat there, looking lost.
I sighed, feeling the weight of it all. “Fine. We’ll invite Jett,” I said tightly.
Luca looked up. “You sure?”
“We don’t have much choice. But your parents need to make sure I don’t have to deal with him,” I said firmly.
Luca hugged me. “You’re amazing,” he whispered.
The wedding day arrived, and my heart felt so full I thought it might burst.
I’d dreamed of this moment for years, and now it was here. I was marrying the man I loved, and nothing could ruin it—not stress, not nerves, not even Jett.
Or so I thought.
In the bridal room at the church, I stood in front of the mirror as my bridesmaids helped with the final touches.
The dress was perfect. Everything was perfect. Then, a knock came at the door.
Smiling, I turned to open it. My breath caught when I saw Jett standing there.
“What are you—” Before I could finish, he lifted a bucket and dumped its contents over me. Cold, sticky liquid soaked my dress, my skin, my hair.
“This is for turning me down,” he sneered.
I gasped. The smell of paint hit me. Bright red dripped from my arms. My beautiful white gown was ruined.
“Are you out of your mind?!” I screamed, my voice trembling.
Jett just laughed, his eyes gleaming, then slammed the door in my face.
My knees gave out, and I sank into a chair, sobbing. My bridesmaids rushed in, their faces shocked.
“Oh my God,” one whispered.
“We need water,” another said, grabbing a towel.
They scrubbed at my dress, but the paint had soaked in. It was hopeless.
My friend Clara grabbed my shoulders. “Stay here. I’ll find a white dress—anything.” She ran out before I could respond.
I wiped my face, but more tears came. I’d spent months choosing my wedding dress, picturing how I’d look walking down the aisle.
Now, I’d have to wear something I’d never seen. My hair was streaked with red paint, clinging to the strands. My bridesmaids worked fast, pinning it up and covering it with my veil.
“It’ll be okay,” one whispered.
“We’ll wash it after the ceremony,” another promised.
The ceremony was already late, and Clara was still gone.
The minutes dragged on, each one heavier. My bridesmaids paced, checking the time, whispering nervously.
Finally, the door flew open. Clara rushed in, breathless, holding a beautiful white dress.
“Jett told everyone you ran away. Luca’s losing it,” she blurted.
My stomach twisted. “HE DID WHAT?!” I shouted, my voice echoing.
Clara nodded. “People are whispering. Luca looks like he’s going to collapse.”
I clenched my fists, my chest burning with anger. “That’s enough.”
I ripped off my veil, letting my red-streaked hair fall loose. My bridesmaids gasped, eyes wide.
Without a word, I stormed out. My dress stuck to my skin, paint dry in spots, still dripping in others.
As I entered the church, heads turned. People whispered. My heart pounded, but I kept going.
Luca stood at the altar, hands clenched, face pale. He looked heartbroken.
“I didn’t run away!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the murmurs.
Luca’s head snapped up. “Sienna?” He rushed down the aisle and pulled me into his arms.
Tears stung my eyes, but I held them back. “Jett poured red paint on me,” I said, stepping back and pointing to my ruined dress. “Then he lied and said I left!”
Luca’s jaw tightened. He turned, scanning the room. “Jett! Explain yourself!” His voice was sharp.
Jett leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Just a little prank,” he said, shrugging.
“That’s not a prank! No one’s laughing! We’re already stressed enough!” Luca snapped.
“Chill, little brother,” Jett said, his tone mocking.
Luca squared his shoulders. “I’m not a kid anymore. You don’t control me.”
Jett chuckled. “Yet here I am, at your wedding.”
“Get out!” I shouted, my voice shaking with fury.
Jett raised an eyebrow. “I was invited. I’m not going.”
Luca stepped forward. “Get out!” he repeated, his voice firm. “Or I’ll make you leave.”
“Luca, he’s your brother,” his mother, Nadine, said, standing quickly.
Luca turned to her. “If you defend what he did, you can leave too,” he said without hesitation.
Nadine’s face paled. “But Luca—” she started.
“Out!” Luca ordered, his voice final.
A heavy silence filled the church. His parents exchanged a glance, then grabbed Jett and left without another word.
Luca turned back to me, his eyes softening. He pulled me close, resting his forehead against mine. “I was so scared,” he whispered.
I exhaled, the weight lifting. “Thank you for standing up for me,” I said, my voice steady.
“From now on, always,” he promised.
