“Excuse me,” Maya stepped forward, “please don’t pet Echo. He’s my service dog, and he’s working right now, so it’s best not to distract him.”
The room temperature dropped about 15 degrees.
“Are you serious?” Talia’s hand froze mid-air. Her smile vanished like someone had flipped a switch.
“That’s so mean.
No wonder he looks so sad.”
“He’s focused on his job, Talia,” I said. “So long as his harness is on, he knows he’s working.
Maybe someday, when he’s not on duty, you can give him a pet, okay?”
“No, it’s fine.” She stood abruptly and gave us both a chilly look. “I’m allergic to dogs, anyway.”
She immediately started coughing like she’d just inhaled a cloud of poison gas.
Rubbing her nose, she turned on her heel and marched off.
Maya frowned at me, but I just shrugged.
Throughout dinner, Talia sniffled, cleared her throat, and pressed her hand to her chest, muttering about how tight it felt.
I was genuinely concerned for all of five minutes. That’s how long it took to realize her eyes weren’t puffy and red, she wasn’t breaking out in hives, and she wasn’t actually wheezing.
Brandon kept leaning over, his face creased with worry.
“Do you want to leave?
We can go.”
She’d wave him off dramatically, then sigh loudly enough that everyone at the table would stop talking and look her way.
It was like watching someone audition for a role they’d already decided they deserved.
Eventually, they did leave early.
Talia grabbed her purse like she was fleeing a crime scene. Brandon trailed behind her, apologizing.
“I’m so sorry,” he said at the door.
“She’s allergic to a couple of things, but I had no idea dogs were on the list.”
***
Later that night, Andrew and I sat cuddled together in bed watching a movie.
“Do you think she’s actually allergic?” Andrew asked.
“I don’t know.” I tipped my head back against his shoulder to look up at him.
“She seemed fine with Echo until Maya said she couldn’t pet him.”
“That’s what I thought.” Andrew sighed.
“What are we going to do? Echo has to be at the wedding — Maya needs him. But if Talia’s actually allergic to dogs…”
Andrew nodded slowly.
“We should probably talk to her.
Before the wedding.”
“Sooner rather than later,” I agreed.
Neither of us wanted to, but we both knew we had to solve this problem before it could cause any major issues.
Three days later, we met Talia at a coffee shop downtown. We sat down at a corner table, ordered our drinks, and then I cut straight to the point.
“We want to talk to you about your dog allergy, Talia.
You see, Echo will be at the wedding because of Maya’s condition, but we don’t want you to be uncomfortable. So, we’d like to brainstorm ways to accommodate everyone.”
Talia crossed her arms.
“Or you could just tell Maya not to bring the dog.”
Andrew jumped in before I could respond.
“Maya has seizures, but Echo helps her detect them early. He’s saved her life more than once.”
“Sounds dramatic,” Talia said, tapping one finger thoughtfully against her chin. “Maybe your sister shouldn’t be maid of honor, then.
What if she has a seizure during the vows?
That’s hardly the picture-perfect moment you’re hoping for.”
My jaw tightened so hard I thought my teeth might crack.
“Maya is my maid of honor.
That’s not going to change.”
“Then you’ll need to change the venue. If you get married somewhere outdoors, then I won’t have to breathe in dog allergens in an enclosed space.” Her voice dropped lower, and she leaned forward.
“I could have a serious asthma attack, you know.
I could even die.”
Andrew shook his head. “Unfortunately, that’s not something we can do at this point. The wedding is right around the corner, and we’d never be able to get a new venue now.”
I tried to steer things back to reason.
I suggested air purifiers, separate seating arrangements, and even a breakout space for Talia.
Honestly, none of them were great suggestions, but since Talia’s dog allergy was questionable, I figured it would be good enough to satisfy her.
Talia threw her arms up like I’d just suggested she walk across hot coals.
“You’ve clearly decided that the dog is more important than me.” She stood and grabbed her bag. “I can’t believe you two.
I thought we were family.”
She stormed out. Andrew and I sat there, watching her leave in stunned silence.
“What just happened?” he finally asked.
“I’m not sure.” I turned to Andrew.
“Could we have been more considerate?
I don’t want to exclude anyone, but Maya is my maid of honor. She has to be at the wedding, and Echo has to be there with her. No offence to Talia, but she’s just a normal guest.”
Andrew shrugged.
We both just wanted everyone to enjoy our special day.
We had no idea how that conversation with Talia would snowball.
We’d barely arrived home when my phone started buzzing. First, a text from Andrew’s mom.
“Talia said you don’t care if she has an allergic reaction at your wedding!
Are you serious?”
Then the cousins chimed in, followed by the aunts. It seemed like everyone suddenly had opinions about my wedding.
“Is it true you’re risking someone’s life for a dog?”
“How could you be so selfish?”
My hands shook as I scrolled through the messages.
It wasn’t until I’d read through them all that I noticed the social media notification.
Talia had posted online.
There was a selfie taken in a public restroom of Talia looking sadly in the mirror as she dabbed at her eyes. The caption said: “Some brides are willing to risk lives for photo ops.”
The family started dividing like we were picking teams for dodgeball.
Andrew’s mom went full Team Talia. Brandon, surprisingly, stayed silent.
Everyone else just watched and waited to see which side would win.
I felt sick, but the worst was yet to come.
One week before the wedding, Andrew and I drove to the venue for our final walkthrough.
I was clutching my binder with all the details: seating charts, timeline, and the playlist we’d agonized over for weeks.
The receptionist looked up when we walked in. Her smile quickly turned to a confused frown.
“I thought you canceled?”
My heart dropped into my stomach.
“What are you talking about?”
She pulled up her computer screen. “You called two days ago.
Said there’d been a death in the family.
We rebooked the date.”
The room started spinning. “I’m sorry, who did you say called?”
“It was a woman,” the receptionist said. “She said she was you.”
Back home, Andrew posted a message in the family group chat: “There’s been a mix-up with the venue.
We’re trying to figure it out and will keep you all posted.”
Minutes later, Talia replied.
I’ll never forget the message; it practically glowed with smugness.
“Hey guys! In light of the venue mix-up, I took the liberty of reserving something much more appropriate for your wedding.
It’s outdoors, so nobody has to deal with dander and drool. You’ll just need to cover a late fee.
It’s a bit premium, but hey, weddings only happen once, right?”
I held up my phone to show Andrew the message.
His jaw clenched.
“Convenient, huh?” I said.
“But we can’t prove she canceled the venue,” Andrew replied.
“We don’t need to,” I replied. “I’m done.”
I tossed my phone onto the bed. Then I turned to Andrew and took his hands in mine, knowing this was the moment everything had to change.
“Andrew, honey, the most important part of the wedding is us, right?
Our love and our commitment to each other?”
He nodded.
“Right.”
“Then let’s cut the drama out of the picture.”
“Do whatever you think is best.”
I picked up my phone and started typing. My hands trembled, but I wasn’t going to risk any more sabotage.
“Due to a deliberate act of sabotage, our venue was canceled without our consent.
We are still getting married, but we now have to scale down. Unfortunately, that means this is now a private event.
To prevent any further sabotage, we will only be sharing the location with those who will be attending the wedding.”
I hit send.
Both of our phones exploded with message notifications and incoming calls.
Talia sent 20 texts in a row.
One of them said, “I was trying to help! If you’d just compromised, none of this would’ve happened!”
Andrew’s mom called, screaming about how we shouldn’t dare to exclude them.
I turned my phone off and set it on my nightstand. Andrew did the same, then he poured us each a glass of wine, and we sat down on the couch.
“There’s just one problem with all of this,” Andrew said.
“We still don’t have a venue.”
“I think I know someone who can help us out.”
One week later, snow blanketed the ground like frosting.
I’d asked my aunt if we could use her estate for our scaled-down wedding, and she’d agreed.
Maya walked down the aisle ahead of me. Echo was at her side, wearing a floral bandana that matched her dress.
When we hugged, Maya whispered, “Thank you for fighting for me.”
“Always,” I whispered back.
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