My stepmother bought me the ugliest dress she could find to embarrass me at prom, but before the night was over, she was crying and begging me to take it off.
Three years after my mother died, my father’s new wife treated me like an unwanted guest in my own home. When prom season arrived, she spent hundreds of dollars on her daughter and gave me the ugliest dress she could find. She thought the whole school would laugh at me.
Instead, she ended the night in tears.
Three years after my mother’s death, our house still seemed to be holding its breath.
My father and I had learned to move through the silence together, pretending that the empty chair at the table wasn’t the loudest thing in the room.
Then Dad started dating Alexis, and within four months, she and her daughter, Brianna, had moved into our home.
One of the first things Alexis did was pack away everything that had belonged to my mother.
Brianna was my age, attended my school, and from the beginning, neither of us liked each other. At first they were subtle, but over time they became bolder.
“Brianna, sweetheart, your hair looks beautiful today,” Alexis said one morning, sliding a plate of pancakes across the counter.
I reached for the syrup, and Alexis moved it slightly away.
“Emma, you’d better not use that.”
“Yeah,” Brianna added, “or we’ll have to get you a special chair.”
Dad glanced over the newspaper but said nothing.
I had already given up hoping he would step in.
As prom season approached, I started dreading mealtimes.
At school it was the same cycle in a different setting.
Brianna walked through the hallways as if she owned the place, and crowds parted for her and her friends.
I kept my head down and counted the months until graduation.
“Three months, Em,” Jenna whispered, nudging my shoulder beside our lockers. “Three months and you’ll be free. Your stepmother won’t be able to touch your life anymore.”
I smiled because she was right, and because counting the days until college was the only thing keeping me going.
“Your stepmother won’t be able to touch your life anymore.”
Prom season hit the school like a storm front.
Posters covered every wall, and Brianna talked about her dream dresses at every meal, even when nobody asked.
“Mom, did you see the one with the crystal bodice? It costs six hundred dollars.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”
One Saturday morning, Dad cleared his throat while drinking his coffee.
“I want both girls to have beautiful dresses,” he said, reaching for his wallet. “Alexis, take this and pick out one for each of them.”
He slowly counted the bills and slid them across the table.
Alexis covered his hand with hers and squeezed it.
“Of course, Mark. I’ll find something perfect for both of them.”
She looked at me when she said it and, for the first time in her life, smiled at me as if I were her daughter.
It was such a small thing, but I felt a spark of excitement—the kind I should have known better than to trust.
For the first time ever, she smiled at me as if I were her daughter.
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