Bridal stress

It was a crisp Saturday morning, just hours before the wedding.
The sun beamed through the lace curtains of the bridal suite, casting a warm glow on the room where Eliza paced back and forth.
Her heart thudded against her chest, nerves twisting like knots inside her.

She glanced at herself in the full-length mirror, dressed in her delicate white gown, the soft ivory fabric hugging her curves, but all she could feel was panic.

"What if I can’t do it?" she whispered to herself. "What if I freeze up in front of everyone? What if I say the wrong thing or just… stand there?"

Her mother, Grace, was sitting calmly in a chair near the vanity, running a soft comb through her own curls. Grace had always been a picture of grace, poise, and confidence. It was no surprise—she had taught Eliza everything she knew about how to carry oneself with elegance.
Yet, despite all the wisdom her mother had shared, it seemed like nothing could calm Eliza's racing mind now.

"You’re doing fine, sweetheart," Grace said, looking up from her task. She could see the anxiety in Eliza’s eyes. "It’s just the nerves. You’ve been preparing for this day your whole life."

Eliza took a deep breath, turning to her mother with wide, anxious eyes. "I don’t think I can stand in front of all those people, Mom. The vows, the expectations... What if I embarrass myself?"

Grace smiled, her expression warm and understanding. "You’re not alone in this. You’ve got everyone cheering you on, and your groom, Jackson—he adores you. And so does everyone else.

They’re here to celebrate you both."

"But it’s so much pressure," Eliza muttered, wiping away a tear that had begun to fall. "I just can’t do it."

Grace studied her daughter carefully. She had always been able to read her like an open book. In that moment, an idea, wild and unconventional, began to form in her mind.

"Eliza," Grace said slowly, standing up and walking over to her daughter. "What if we did something… different?"

Eliza blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Grace took a deep breath and, with a glint in her eye, offered a mischievous smile. "What if… I took your place?"

Eliza furrowed her brow, her mind struggling to catch up. "You mean… like, you walk down the aisle instead of me?"

"Exactly," Grace said, leaning in closer. "We could swap looks, outfits, everything. No one would ever notice."

Eliza’s eyes widened in disbelief. "But Mom, you’re..."

"I know, I know. You look just like me," Grace finished for her, a knowing smile on her lips. "We’ve always joked about it, haven’t we?

People have always mistaken us for sisters. I can do it, Eliza. And you can stay here, breathe, and calm down. You deserve to enjoy the day, too."

For a long moment, Eliza simply stared at her mother, unsure whether to laugh or panic further. But then something inside her clicked. She felt a strange sense of relief wash over her. Her mother was confident, poised, and just as beautiful in her own right.
If anyone could do this, it was her.

"Okay, let’s do it," Eliza said, her voice trembling but determined. "But we’ll have to swap everything. The dress, the jewelry, the makeup…"

Grace chuckled softly. "Of course. We’ll be thorough."

With a smile, Grace began to help Eliza out of the wedding dress. The two women moved swiftly, working together as if they had done this a thousand times before. They exchanged not only their clothes but also their identities for the day. Grace slipped into Eliza’s dress, carefully adjusting it to her figure, while Eliza donned her mother’s chic outfit.

Grace quickly slipped into the delicate lace undergarments Eliza had chosen for her wedding day, and Eliza put on the more understated, elegant pieces her mother had planned to wear. Then, they worked on their hair and makeup, recreating each other’s looks. Eliza’s hair, which had been styled into soft waves for her big day, became a sleek updo in Grace’s hands. Grace’s makeup, which was usually a bit more subdued, was reworked to match Eliza’s bold bridal look.

The final touch was the jewelry. Grace gently placed the sparkling earrings and necklace onto Eliza’s neck, while Eliza did the same for her mother.

Once they were both ready, standing side by side in the full-length mirror, they marveled at how well their plan had worked. They looked like perfect mirror images of one another, their beauty both timeless and radiant.

"How do I look?" Grace asked, her voice full of excitement.

"You look perfect," Eliza replied, smiling through her nervousness.

As the minutes ticked by, Eliza took a deep breath, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. The plan was set in motion. Grace would walk down the aisle as her, while Eliza remained hidden in the bridal suite, watching the ceremony unfold from behind closed doors.

The moment came. Grace, now in her daughter’s shoes, took Eliza’s hand and walked her to the church entrance. The bridal party and the guests were none the wiser as the doors opened, and Grace stepped out onto the red carpet. The church was filled with gasps of awe at how stunning the bride looked.

Jackson, waiting nervously at the altar, caught his first glimpse of Grace. He felt his heart skip a beat, but it was only for a split second—he attributed the strange, familiar sensation to how much she resembled Eliza.

The ceremony was a blur of vows, laughter, and joyful tears. Grace and Eliza mirrored each other’s movements, adopting the same expressions, the same gestures. Grace’s voice echoed through the church with the same warmth and certainty Eliza would have had. No one noticed the change.

Even the moment when Grace said, “I do,” felt like Eliza had done it herself. When the minister pronounced them husband and wife, the cheers rang out as if everything had gone as planned.

Afterward, as the newlyweds stood together, sharing their first kiss as a married couple, Eliza smiled from the safety of the bridal suite. The nerves were gone. She hadn’t had to face the altar, but she’d still experienced the love and joy of the day in her own way.

The rest of the reception passed with nothing but celebration. Grace, in her daughter's place, moved through the evening as though she had always been the bride. Eliza observed from the sidelines, occasionally stealing a glance at her mother - her beautiful, confident mother - who had carried off the role so flawlessly.

It was a day that would be remembered by everyone. A secret between mother and daughter. A bond they would never forget.
Grace had given her daughter the gift of peace, and Eliza had, in return, given her mother the most special role she could imagine: to be her.



Chapter 2: The Great Switch Back
The reception was winding down. The newlyweds had danced their first dance, the toasts had been given, and the guests were beginning to drift toward the exits, chatting happily about the beautiful day. Grace, still in her daughter’s guise, glanced at the clock and knew the moment had come.

She spotted Eliza lingering near the side entrance of the venue, watching discreetly from the shadows, her mother’s elegant cocktail dress blending into the muted colors of the evening. Eliza caught her mother’s eye and nodded. It was time to switch back before anyone—especially Jackson or Eliza’s father—noticed something unusual.

Grace excused herself from the party with a polite smile, claiming she needed a moment to freshen up. She floated effortlessly out of the hall, still playing the part of the perfect bride. Jackson was distracted by his groomsmen, laughing over a shared joke, while Eliza’s father, Henry, was deep in conversation with some old friends.

Once in the bridal suite, Grace closed the door behind her and found Eliza waiting nervously.

"How did I do?" Grace asked, a sly grin spreading across her face.

"You were perfect, Mom," Eliza whispered, relief and gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you."

Grace waved off her daughter’s thanks, her tone playful. "You can repay me by helping me get out of this corset. I haven’t worn one of these in years!"

They both laughed softly as Eliza rushed to help her mother out of the intricate wedding dress. Grace sighed in relief as the fitted bodice was loosened, and she stepped out of the gown, careful not to wrinkle it.

Next, Grace helped Eliza back into the dress, zipping it up and smoothing the fabric until it looked as though it had never been worn by anyone else. Eliza shivered slightly as she slipped back into the delicate lace undergarments, the jewelry, and finally the veil. With practiced hands, Grace fixed Eliza’s hair back into its bridal waves, pinning the veil into place.

"Now for me," Grace said, motioning toward her own clothes.

Eliza handed her mother the familiar cocktail dress, a deep navy-blue number that Grace had been wearing earlier that day. Grace quickly changed, pulling on her understated jewelry and slipping into her comfortable heels. She gave herself a quick once-over in the mirror, smoothing her hair back into the sleek bun she had sported earlier.

As they worked, the two women moved like clockwork, their bond stronger than ever. Each gesture was seamless, a reflection of the trust and understanding between them. They were a team, and they had pulled off the impossible.

When they were finished, they both stepped back and took in their reflections in the mirror. Eliza once again looked like the radiant bride she was meant to be, and Grace was back to her elegant, mother-of-the-bride self.

"Perfect," Grace said, giving her daughter’s hands a reassuring squeeze. "Now, let’s get you back out there to your husband."

Eliza hesitated, biting her lip. "What if he… you know, notices something?"

Grace’s eyes sparkled with humor. "Darling, if he hasn’t noticed by now, he’s not going to. Just act natural. Be yourself. That’s the woman he fell in love with."

Eliza nodded, taking a deep breath. She gathered her skirts and opened the door, her mother following closely behind. Together, they returned to the reception hall, slipping back into their respective roles as though nothing had happened.

As Eliza walked up to Jackson, he turned to her with a bright smile, his eyes full of love. "Hey, where did you disappear to?"

"Just needed a moment to freshen up," Eliza said, her voice steady. She leaned in to kiss his cheek, feeling a wave of relief when he pulled her into a warm embrace.

Nearby, Henry approached Grace, offering her a glass of champagne. "You’ve been keeping busy today, haven’t you? You’re glowing as much as Eliza is."

Grace chuckled, her voice calm and composed. "It’s been quite the day, hasn’t it? But everything turned out perfectly."

Henry smiled, completely unaware of the day’s unusual twist. "I couldn’t agree more. You’ve outdone yourself, Grace. Eliza is so lucky to have you."

Grace simply smiled, sipping her champagne.

The rest of the evening passed without incident. Eliza and Jackson shared more dances, cut the cake, and said their goodbyes to the guests. As the newlyweds prepared to leave for their honeymoon, Eliza caught her mother’s eye one last time.

"Thank you," she mouthed silently.

Grace winked, her expression full of love and pride.

As the car carrying Eliza and Jackson drove off into the night, Grace leaned back against her chair, a small, satisfied smile on her face. No one had noticed a thing, and the secret was safe between her and her daughter—a secret that would forever bond them in the most extraordinary way.