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My Daughter-In-Law Gave Me A White Maxi Dress To Wear To Her Wedding, And I Was Speechless When I Got There

Given their tense past, Margaret believes there is a set-up when Anita, her daughter-in-law, gives her a white maxi dress for the wedding. Unexpected surprises await Anita when she gets to the wedding, and afterwards, she muses over the significance of a white outfit.

I knew Anita was the one who left the nicely wrapped present on my doorstep without even reading the note. Would anyone else gift me something so extravagant?

I ripped through the wrapping paper, revealing a gorgeous white maxi dress, with a mixture of curiosity and dread.

Then the note fell out. “Please wear this to the wedding. Love, Anita.”

Love, Anita? Really? I could practically sense the irony seeping through those sentences. Anita and I, you know, have had our share of arguments.

I found her charming when she first started dating my son, James. Clearly bright, self-assured, and modern. But then the fighting broke out.

Little things at first, largely lifestyle decisions, were the cause. James had consistently been somewhat of a mama’s boy, while Anita was excessively independent and deviant from the conventional principles that I held dear.

However, the real problems began when the wedding was being planned. She kept me out of every choice and detail. God, I only learned about the location from a buddy! And this fucking dress now.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Linda, my best friend. “You won’t believe what Anita did now,” I said as soon as she picked up.

“What happened?” Linda’s voice was like a reassuring rock.

“She sent me a dress to wear to the wedding. A white dress! Can you imagine?” I paced around my living room, my voice rising with every word.

“Hmm,” Linda said thoughtfully. “It could be a setup. Or it could be a misunderstanding. Maybe you should talk to her?”

I feared Margaret would never accept me, always seeing me as the woman who took her son away. The thought of planning a wedding with her scrutinizing every detail was daunting. For my own sanity, I had to exclude her.

“Talk to her?” I repeated. I became quite hot and bothered at the mere thought. But Linda was not wrong.

The following day, I was seated across from Anita in a small, charming café. My hands were shaking so much that I was having trouble drinking my coffee. With a calm smile on her lips, Anita appeared as composed as ever.

“You don’t like the dress?” Anita asked, her brow wrinkling.

“It’s a lovely dress, I just don’t understand why you want me to wear a white dress to your wedding,” I responded.

She leaned in, her eyes earnest. “This wedding is about family coming together, and I wanted to honor you, Margaret. That’s why I chose the dress. It’s important to me that you wear it.”

I looked at her, searching for any sign of dishonesty. But sincerity was all I saw. Is it possible that she truly meant it?

I thought about her remarks after I left the café. Even if I wasn’t totally sold, we were officially becoming family. Perhaps I should have shown her a little leniency.

My nerves were spinning on the day of the wedding. Standing in front of the mirror, the white dress stuck to my body.

Once more, my hands were shaking, and I could practically hear the visitors criticizing me in whispers. “Who does she think she is, wearing white to her son’s wedding?”

It seemed like an eternity to get to the wedding location. My mind was racing; every idea was more audible than the last.

Had Anita tricked me? Would other people laugh at me? Criticize me? I gripped the steering wheel so firmly that my knuckles became white.

My heart was thumping when I got to the venue. I pushed myself to get out of the car and move towards the door, shaking my head in an attempt to chase away the bad thoughts, but they stuck with me like a shadow.

The doors towered over me. That was it. There’s no going back now. I opened the door and went inside.

I was welcomed with an absolutely breathtaking scene. The elaborate decorations and brilliant colors created a symphony throughout the hall. Every corner was embellished with exquisite, traditional Indian details, which created a captivating ambiance.

That’s when it hit me—I needed to find a way to honor Margaret, to show her that she wasn’t losing a son but gaining a daughter.

The air was filled with laughter and conversation as guests dressed in vibrant clothes moved with ease. And then I saw her, Anita, standing in the middle of everything, looking gorgeous in a red sari. Not at all the white dress I had anticipated.

I was so overcome that I was having trouble breathing. It was as stunning and unexpected as if one had entered a different universe.

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