My Best Friend Gave Me the Wrong Dress Code for Her Wedding – I Decided to Outplay Her Smartly
When Emily’s friend, Elle, gets engaged to her boyfriend, Brian, she is completely over the moon. Emily does everything she can to help Elle plan her dream wedding. But then Elle starts acting secretive and gives Emily a wedding invite with the incorrect dress code. Thankfully, a mutual colleague gives Emily the correct details, allowing her to show up to the wedding to teach Elle a lesson.
“I’m engaged, Em!” Elle said, rushing through my door while I was sitting on the couch and reading a book.
A woman reading on a couch | Source: Unsplash
“What?” I exclaimed, standing up to hug her tightly. “I’m so happy for you, my girl!”
Elle sat down on the couch and showed me her hand.
“Look at this rock!” she said.
A close-up of an engagement ring | Source: Unsplash
Of course, I was over the moon for her. We’d been through so much together, and now it was her turn to walk down the aisle.
For my wedding, a few years ago, Elle had been right by my side. She helped me plan every little detail, from the font on my wedding invitations to the menu selections.
“It’s more like you and Elle are getting married,” my husband, Grant, laughed one evening when I told him everything that Elle and I had planned.
A laughing man | Source: Unsplash
“Well, she’s been around longer than you,” I replied, showing him the mockup for our wedding invitations.
And it was true, Elle and I had been friends since our childhood, having lived on the same street and gone to the same kindergarten together.
We shared every major milestone, from awkward teenage years to college graduation, together.
Two women lying on a bed | Source: Pexels
We even ended up working at the same company, making sure to have lunch and tea breaks together every day.
So, naturally, I expected her to be just as involved in her wedding planning as she was in mine.
“Brian and I don’t want to be engaged for too long,” she said one day at the office while we were having tea and pastries.
An office kitchen | Source: Unsplash
“So, we’re planning for the wedding to be in a few months.”
“That’s a lot to do in a few months, Elle,” I said, sipping my tea.
“I know,” she agreed. “But you’ll help me!”
A woman drinking from a mug | Source: Pexels
As the weeks went by, Elle asked me for advice on the venue, the dance, and the flowers.
“I need it to be perfect, Em,” she said. “Brian and I are the only children of our parents, so this is the only chance they’re going to get to be parents of the bride and groom.”
A smiling older couple | Source: Midjourney
I helped her wherever I could. I booked visits of stunning venues that she could see. I booked her appointment with the florist who had done all the flowers at my wedding. And I arranged for her to meet my choreographer for her first dance with Brian.
“I don’t know how I could have done any of this without you,” Elle said, holding my hand.
Two women holding hands | Source: Midjourney
But that’s not the best part of this story.
Despite our shared history and all the assistance I had given Elle throughout her wedding planning process, she didn’t tell me anything about the actual wedding.
“I want to keep the location a secret,” she said sheepishly, a small smile on her face. “I want it to be a surprise. So, you’ll know when the invites come out.”
A close-up of a smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
And yet, when the invitations came out, I never received mine.
“Darling,” I asked Grant when I got home one day. “Did Elle’s wedding invitation come in the post?”
“No,” he said, looking up from his tablet. “Shouldn’t she have just given it to you?”
A man using a tablet | Source: Midjourney
“I thought so, but I’m not sure where our invitation is.”
“Ask her, love,” my husband said.
I was puzzled, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.
A close-up of a surprised woman | Source: Midjourney
So, I asked her directly.
“Oh, right,” she said, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I must have forgotten. I don’t have any on me at the moment, but I’ll bring one for you tomorrow!”
The next day, Elle handed me an invite. To my surprise, the dress code was “Mermaid.”
A wedding invitation on a table | Source: Midjourney
“Like the cartoon character?” I said aloud.
It seemed bizarre, but Elle had always loved that cartoon, so I tried to rationalize it.
“Maybe she’s going for a whimsical theme?” I muttered, thinking about a mermaid-themed wedding.
An imagined mermaid-themed wedding | Source: Midjourney
But still, I planned my outfit for Elle’s wedding.
It was about a week before the wedding when our colleague, Jane, and I were standing outside during one of our tea breaks and chatting.
“I’m actually looking forward to getting all dressed up,” Jane said. “It’s been a while since I put on a good pair of heels and did my makeup for fun and not work.”
A woman putting on makeup | Source: Unsplash
“What do you mean? Is your costume all sorted?” I asked.
“What costume?” Jane asked, her reaction priceless; she looked at me like I had lost my mind.
“Elle’s invitation said that the dress code was mermaid-themed,” I said.
A surprised young woman | Source: Midjourney
“I think she’s joking with you,” Jane laughed. “My invitation said ‘Cocktail’ as the dress code.”
My heart sank.
Elle was setting me up, but why?
For the next few days, I kept my head down, barely interacting with Elle.
A close-up of a sad woman | Source: Midjourney
I was feeling sidelined and hurt. We’d always been honest with each other, so why was she doing this now?
I remembered how supportive she was during my wedding and couldn’t understand why she didn’t want me involved in hers.
On the day of the wedding, I arrived in a long, elegant gray dress.
A woman wearing a long gray dress | Source: Midjourney
Grant and I sat at the back, away from the crowd, and we watched the beautiful ceremony unfold. I wondered why I wasn’t a bridesmaid.
But it was only during the reception, when Elle saw me, that the truth came out.
A bridal couple kissing | Source: Unsplash
“What the hell are you wearing?” she demanded when she saw me.
The guests around us glanced at us and each other, sensing the tension.
“You know, I really thought that ‘mermaids’ as the wedding theme was a bit extreme. But then Jane showed me her invitation.”
An angry bride | Source: Midjourney
Elle’s face went through a range of emotions, finally settling on a strained calm.
“Em… I guess it was a mistake,” she said.
“Stop pretending,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “I’m your friend. It’s your wedding. What’s going on?”
She hesitated, her eyes darting around before finally meeting mine.
A close-up of a bride | Source: Midjourney
“Em,” she said slowly. “I was afraid that you’d outshine me. Everyone keeps talking about how perfect your wedding was and how beautiful you looked. I didn’t want to feel like I was in your shadow on my own day.”
I looked at her carefully, trying to process her words.
“My own mother kept talking about how wonderful your wedding was and that I should listen to you about everything,” she continued.
A close-up of a bride and her mother | Source: Midjourney
“Elle, you never had to compete with me. Your wedding is beautiful, and so are you. We’re friends, remember? I would never try to overshadow you.”
Tears welled up in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Em,” she choked. “I let my insecurities get the best of me.”
I pulled her into a hug.
Two women hugging | Source: Midjourney
“Everything is perfect,” I said. “You’ve planned your dream wedding, and it has all fallen into place. Now, come on. Let’s enjoy this day together, like we’ve always done.”
The tension melted away, and the awkwardness dissolved as we shared a genuine moment of reconciliation.
Grant and I sat at a table away from the crowd.
A table at a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney
“Are things okay with you and Elle?” Grant asked me.
“I think so,” I smiled. “But I think that there’s bigger things we need to discuss, too. I just want to make sure that we’re on the right page. That can wait until after her honeymoon.”
My husband took my hand and squeezed it gently.
A couple holding hands on a table | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
A Free Vacation Sounded Amazing Until I Found Out My Ex-Husband Was Coming Too — Story of the Day
A free vacation with a stranger sounded too good to be true—but the email didn’t ask for credit card details, or even personal information: just a ticket, a hotel, and a mystery companion. Intrigued, I boarded the plane, only to find out my “stranger” was someone I never wanted to see again.
It was a typical Friday evening, but my body felt like it had gone through a whole week’s worth of exhaustion.
I had barely kicked off my shoes before collapsing onto my sister Deborah’s couch, one arm draped over my face, the other lazily scrolling through my inbox on my laptop.
Across the room, Deborah was in her own world. She paraded around in front of the mirror, changing into outfit after outfit, twirling, striking poses like she was on a runway.
The crinkling of shopping bags and the rustle of fabric filled the air as she excitedly switched between clothes she had just bought.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She did a quick spin and looked at me expectantly. “What do you think?”
I barely glanced up, giving her dress a lazy once-over before smirking. “Nice, Deb. But I don’t get why you need so many clothes.”
Deborah scoffed, hands on her hips. “Of course, you don’t. You weren’t the one stuck wearing hand-me-downs your entire childhood.”
She dramatically flipped her hair. “Consider this my therapy. I’m healing, Charlie.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I shook my head. “Whatever you say…” My attention drifted back to my laptop, aimlessly clicking through emails.
Mostly junk. Bills. Newsletters I forgot to unsubscribe from.
Then, something made me pause.
I sat up straight, my eyes narrowing at the subject line of an email I didn’t remember signing up for.
“Congratulations! You’ve won a free two-day vacation with a mystery travel companion!”
Before I could process it, Deborah’s voice interrupted.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“How about this one?” she asked, stepping into another dress.
I didn’t answer.
Silence stretched for a moment.
“Charlie?” She turned, raising an eyebrow. “Are you even listening?”
I snapped out of it. “Huh? Sorry, I just got some weird email…” I frowned, rereading it.
“It says I won a free two-day vacation with a stranger. Definitely a scam.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Deborah’s jaw dropped. “What!? A free trip? Let me guess—do they need your credit card info or social security number?”
“That’s the thing… they don’t.” I scrolled through the email again, expecting a scammer’s red flag.
“No banking details, no suspicious links. Just a confirmation with my name, flight itinerary, and a hotel reservation.”
Deborah practically lunged across the couch, leaning over my shoulder. “Let me see.”
I tilted my screen toward her. She scanned the email, her expression shifting from skepticism to shock.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“No way… Charlie, this looks legit! There’s an actual reservation—flights, hotel, even travel insurance. It’s all here.”
I shook my head. “No, there’s got to be a catch. No one just hands out free vacations.”
Deborah’s eyes darted across the screen, clicking on links, cross-checking details. Finally, she leaned back, arms crossed.
“I can’t find anything suspicious.” She turned to me with a huge grin. “Charlie, you actually won this trip. Congrats, sis.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I chewed my lip, unsure whether to feel excited or terrified.
“I can’t just go on a trip with some random person.”
Deborah waved a hand dismissively. “Why not? It’s free. And maybe, just maybe, this ‘stranger’ is a hot guy who’ll finally end your dry spell.”
I shot her a glare. “Deborah! I like being single, okay? That’s my choice.”
She smirked. “Sure… I’ve heard that after every ‘seasonal fling’ since your divorce.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed a pillow and threw it at her head.
She dodged, laughing. “Hey! Just saying. Maybe it’s fate.”
Fate or not, something about this whole thing felt strange.
And yet, a small part of me wondered…
What if?
The next day, I stood at the airport terminal, gripping my suitcase so tightly my knuckles turned white. The ticket in my hand felt heavier than it should.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I still couldn’t believe Deborah had convinced me to go.
This was completely insane.
Some strangers had sent me free tickets for a contest I didn’t even remember entering. And somehow, I had agreed to spend two days traveling with a mystery person.
The more I thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed.
I exhaled sharply and turned toward the exit.
What am I doing?
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Every logical part of my brain screamed to leave before it was too late.
I swallowed, staring at the automatic doors. I’ve always been cautious. Always taken the safest route.
I can’t keep running from new experiences.
I let out a slow breath, forcing myself to turn around.
Business class felt surreal. The soft leather seats, the spacious legroom, the complimentary drinks—this was a world I had never stepped into before.
But none of it mattered.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
My focus was on the people boarding, scanning faces, wondering who my seatmate would be.
Would they be talkative? Annoying? Would we have anything in common?
Then, I reached my seat.
A man was already there, hunched forward, scrolling on his phone.
I took a hesitant step forward.
He turned slightly.
My stomach dropped.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“…Luther?” My voice barely escaped my lips.
His head snapped up, eyes widening. The same piercing gaze I had once loved. The same face I had tried to forget.
“Charlotte?” He blinked. “What the hell are you doing here?”
I exhaled sharply, my heart slamming against my ribs. “Please don’t tell me you also got these tickets.”
Luther ran a hand through his hair, still looking as confused as I felt.
“…Through some contest email? Yeah. You too?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I groaned, every fiber of my being screaming at me to leave.
“Oh no. No, no, no. This is too much. I’m leaving.” I spun on my heel, ready to march straight off the plane.
But before I could take a step, a gentle but firm hand landed on my shoulder.
I turned to find a flight attendant offering a polite but unshakable smile.
“The plane is preparing for takeoff, ma’am. Please remain seated.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but before I could, Luther spoke first.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He turned to the attendant with that same damn charming smile I had seen a million times before.
“It’s okay, everything’s fine.” Then he reached for my hand, squeezing it lightly—just like he used to when he wanted me to calm down.
My body remembered before my mind did.
For a second, just a single second, my breath caught.
Then, I ripped my hand away.
No. Not again.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Charlotte, our marriage ended years ago,” Luther said, his voice softer now. “Please don’t ruin your free trip just because of me. I promise, I won’t bother you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “If I had a dollar for every time I heard that from you…”
Luther smirked. “Then you’d be rich. But seriously, let’s just coexist for two days.”
I hesitated, my entire body itching to refuse.
But what was I supposed to do?
The plane was boarding, and I wasn’t about to miss my first-ever business class flight just because of Luther.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
With a long, frustrated sigh, I dropped into my seat.
“Fine. Just don’t ruin this trip for me.”
Luther leaned back, grinning. “Only your best years of youth.”
I turned toward the window, ignoring him.
I never expected to see Luther again. And honestly? I had hoped I never would.
The moment we stepped into the oceanfront hotel, I felt my breath catch.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The grand entrance, the towering glass windows reflecting the sea, the marble floors that seemed to stretch endlessly—everything about the place screamed luxury.
For the first time since this ridiculous trip started, I was almost glad I came.
And then Luther stepped up beside me.
“Nice place, huh?” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets.
I forced a tight smile. “Yeah. Not bad.”
“Reminds me of the hall where we had our wedding. Same décor.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
My stomach twisted. My jaw clenched.
“Oh, so now you’re reminiscing about our wedding?” I snapped. My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care.
Luther’s easygoing expression faltered. “Charlotte, let’s not—”
“No, let’s.” I folded my arms, my heart pounding with anger. “You suddenly want to relive the past? Let’s talk about how you destroyed everything.”
A muscle in his jaw tightened. He sighed, shaking his head before grabbing our bags and walking toward the elevator.
“Can we not do this in the lobby?” he muttered.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I should’ve let it go. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
But years of hurt, betrayal, and anger had been buried inside me for far too long.
And now?
I wasn’t about to let him walk away from it.
The moment we stepped into the hotel room, the door barely clicked shut before the words exploded out of me.
“Afraid someone will hear about what you did?”
Luther stiffened. He turned, facing me, his eyes shadowed with something I didn’t recognize.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Charlotte, please—”
“Don’t call me that!” My voice cracked. “You cheated on me, Luther!”
A heavy silence fell between us.
Luther ran a hand through his hair, exhaling like he was bracing himself for something painful.
For the first time since seeing him again, he actually looked ashamed.
“I know.” His voice was quiet. “And I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
A bitter laugh escaped me.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Well, congrats. You did. And I don’t care about your apology, or your excuses.” I stepped back, my voice turning cold. “You don’t get to ruin any more of my life. You hear me?”
I stormed across the room, grabbing one of the beds and dragging it to the opposite side.
“For the next two days, don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me.”
Then I slammed the bathroom door behind me.
The first day flew by. I spent it by the pool, avoiding Luther at all costs.
But something nagged at me.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He hadn’t left the room.
That night, when I returned, I heard coughing from the bathroom. Deep, dry, painful.
A tissue lay on the floor. It was stained with blood.
I froze.
Then the bathroom door opened, and Luther stepped out.
I stared at him. “What stage?”
His eyes softened. “Stage four.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I swallowed hard. “When did you find out?”
“Six months ago.” He sighed. “It’s strange, living when you know you’re dying.”
I bit my lip. “I’m sorry.”
“This trip… it wasn’t a contest. I arranged everything,” he admitted.
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
“Because I needed to see you one last time,” he said. “To say I’m sorry. And to tell you… I never stopped loving you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Tears blurred my vision.
“Is it too late?” I whispered.
Luther smiled sadly. “For me, yes. But for you? You have your whole life ahead of you, Charlotte. And I hope it’s a beautiful one.”
I squeezed his hand.
“Thank you, Luther.”
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