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When Jason and I started dating, it wasn’t a perfect fairy tale. I even cried on our first date because I was late—thanks to traffic, spilled coffee, and a broken shoe. Jason sat quietly through my tearful explanation, unsure how to react, and didn’t call me for a week after that. We bumped into each other later at a party, and after I explained my emotional side, he admitted he understood. From then on, we were inseparable.
Fast forward six years, and we still hadn’t planned a wedding. There was always something—either one of us was dealing with some crisis. Finally, Jason proposed, and everything felt right, except for one problem—his brother, Derek.
Derek was unbearable—arrogant and condescending, always reminding Jason that he was the older brother. He made my skin crawl from the first time we met. His behavior escalated until one day he crossed the line, making inappropriate advances, sending disgusting messages, and harassing me. I told Jason I didn’t want Derek at the wedding, and he agreed. But when Jason’s parents said they wouldn’t attend unless Derek was invited, we had no choice.
On the wedding day, I was in the bridal room, feeling overjoyed, when Derek appeared out of nowhere. Without a word, he dumped a bucket of green paint all over me, ruining my dress. Furious, I tried to keep my composure, but when I heard he had told everyone I ran away, I snapped. I stormed into the church, paint-covered and all, and told Jason what happened.
Jason stood by me. He confronted Derek, who arrogantly claimed it was a joke. When his parents tried to defend him, Jason made it clear—if they supported Derek, they could leave. And they did. In that moment, I knew we were stronger than ever. Jason promised to always stand up for me, and from that day forward, I knew nothing could break us.
