Addison’s profile now displayed a throwback photo of her in a neon pink bikini beside a plastic flamingo. The caption read: “Throwback to my wild days! #BeachBabe #NoFilter #LiveLaughLove.” Concerned comments from her church friends filled the page.
My phone rang.
Tim’s voice was cold.
“Is Jazmin behind this? My mom’s crying.
Half her church has called her, convinced she’s having a breakdown.”
In the background, I heard Jazmin’s voice. “Tim?
Why are you calling Dawn?”
The silence that followed was palpable.
“You did this?” Tim’s voice was taut.
“Over a dress photo?”
“She started it!” Jazmin’s defiance wavered.
“My mother, who struggles to print out her emails, planned to upstage you on purpose?” Tim’s calm facade finally cracked. “She spent hours learning how to make a photo album for your rehearsal dinner. She’s been taking computer classes to bond with you.”
“Tim, I—”
“I can’t marry someone who’d hurt my mom out of spite.
The wedding’s off.”
The sound of Jazmin sobbing filled the line before it disconnected.
Now, a week later, I’m surrounded by the fallout.
The local news even picked up the story: *“Wedding Canceled After Social Media Drama.”* Mom’s been baking nonstop, Dad’s holed up in his workshop, and even my cat seems embarrassed.
Jazmin texted me, “I really messed up, didn’t I?”
“Want to come over? I have wine and that reality show you love.”
“You mean the dog grooming one?”
“Yes.”
“…Can we get pizza?”
Some things never change.
My phone buzzed again — this time, Addison asking, “How do I make my Facebook private? And can hashtags be deleted?”
Despite everything, I smiled.
Maybe not everyone changes, and that’s not always a bad thing.
Another text from Jazmin appeared: “Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?”
I didn’t know.
Love can endure many things, but trust? That’s harder to rebuild. Still, stranger things have happened.
Maybe one day we’ll laugh about it, but for now, there’s wine, pizza, and a dog grooming show to watch.
