My Future Brother-in-Law Poured Paint on Me Before My Wedding — Then I Made Him Regret It

Dylan, Graham’s younger brother, was always a source of conflict—disrespectful, arrogant, and continually pushing boundaries. But his actions on our wedding day were inexcusable. He embarrassed me in front of everyone, ruining my most lovely moment. Graham had enough—it was the final blow.

It felt like an imperfect fairy tale when Graham and I started dating. Unpredictable and full of surprises and emotions.

Our first date made me cry. Not his fault, but because I was late and everything went wrong. I ran into the restaurant, breathless and embarrassed.

I cried as I explained the standstill traffic, the coffee that spilled over my top, and the shoe that broke as I sprinted across the street. Graham sat silent and unsure what to say.

We finished the meal, but he didn’t call afterward. The week passed without anything. I thought my tumultuous entrance scared him away.

Luck reunited us at a friend’s gathering. I had the confidence to tell him I was naturally emotional, maybe too much. To my astonishment, he seemed unfazed. He admitted being the same.

After that party six years ago, we were inseparable. Graham cried with me during emotional animal movies. He was mine. I knew I was his.

We did not linger. We lived together after three months of dating. We were comfortable, pleased, and unhurried for six years. The wedding was never scheduled. It was constantly delayed because Graham or I were going through something more important.

Graham proposed eight months ago. He planned the proposal so well that I didn’t see it coming, making it more romantic. Not that I needed the ring or ceremony to want him forever.

No relationship is flawless, and his family was our particular issue. More specifically, Dylan, his younger brother.

Dylan was bad. Condescending, dismissive, and annoyingly pompous. He pretended to be superior to everyone, especially Graham.

Dylan always reminded Graham who the “older and wiser” brother was, even though they were only three years apart.

The first time we met was unforgettable. Graham brought me to his parents’ house, where Dylan—a mature adult—still lived. He wasn’t as impressive as he believed.

Things started well. Our interactions were courteous and friendly. But then I excused myself to use the restroom, and Dylan was waiting outside the door.

“You bored yet?” he inquired, grinning boldly.

I froze partially. “No, I’m alright,” I responded, maintaining my tone nice yet firm.

He chuckled. “Let’s leave. Have some fun.”

I retreated somewhat. “Really, I’m okay,” I said, my stomach twisting.

Tilting his head, he leaned in. A woman like you doesn’t deserve my brother.

“You’d have a much better time with me,” he said. His words were gentle, but his gaze were unsettlingly chilly.

He put one arm around my waist before I could retreat. He groped me with his hand.

Let me go! I yelled, pushing him away and running back into the dining room, my pulse racing.

Graham’s face brightened up as I approached, but I smiled weakly and grabbed my stomach. Not feeling well. Can we leave?

He rose promptly. “Sure.”

His parents seemed worried as we parted. “It was so nice meeting you, Elise,” his mother replied gently.

Graham looked worriedly at me when we got in the car. Did you eat something that made you sick?

I inhaled slowly. Dylan moved on me, I said.

Graham tightened his steering wheel grip. “What? That jerk—

His jaw tightened. “I’ll talk to him.”

Dylan brushed off Graham’s confrontation, saying he was “just testing me” like a protective elder brother. Whether touching me like that is justified. I doubted him, but Graham didn’t press the subject.

I sometimes wondered if Graham feared Dylan. Dylan bullied and degraded him as a child.

Graham felt inferior to him for years, but he attempted to stay cordial out of habit.

Dylan’s actions eventually got Graham’s attention.

The texts started. Inappropriate. Gross. Unwanted photographs. Evil, humiliating things. I blocked his number immediately.

Graham agreed immediately when I informed him Dylan shouldn’t be at our wedding.

Graham returned home exhausted soon after. Dropping on the couch, his shoulders sagged.

“What’s wrong?” Sitting beside him, I inquired.

Rubbing his temples. Talked to my folks. Dylan must be invited or they won’t come.”

My chest ached sharply. “That’s unfair,” I added, stiffening my hands.

“I know,” he murmured, staring at the floor.

“What he’s done to me… Why don’t they care about his harassment and vile messages? My voice broke.

Graham didn’t reply. Dejected, he sat.

I sighed heavily. “Fine. I choked on my words, “We’ll invite him.”

Graham’s head snapped. Are you sure?

“We have few options. But your folks better keep him away from me. At all.”

He embraced me. “You’re amazing,” he whispered.

The big day arrived. Joy filled my heart. My long-awaited moment has arrived. Finally, I was marrying my soulmate. I felt unstoppable. Not even Dylan could destroy today.

Or so I thought.

My bridesmaids fixed my gown and hair in the chapel bridal suite while I stood in front of the mirror. Everything was wonderful. Dress, veil, makeup.

Knocking followed.

I smiled, expecting the wedding planner.

Instead, Dylan was in front of me.

You’re doing what? He hoisted a bucket and spilled it on me before I could finish asking.

A chilly, sticky liquid soaked my skin, clothes, and hair.

“This is for turning me down, witch,” he growled.

Screamed. The overwhelming paint scent hit me first. My gown’s white satin soaked up bright green paint from my arms.

You insane? Angered and s.h.o.c.k., I yelled.

Dylan laughed, eyes shiny, and calmly closed the door in my face.

I broke down on the chair, crying. My bridesmaids ran toward me, horrified.

“Oh my God,” someone exclaimed.

“Get some towels,” another shouted, snatching tissues and rags.

They tried to wipe away the paint, but it was absorbed into the fabric. There was no hope.

Bridesmaid Stacy grabbed me by the shoulders. Stay here. Any white dress will do.” Out the door, she ran.

I cried more than ever, burying my face in my hands. Not meant to happen. I carefully selected my wedding dress. I imagined myself walking down the aisle in it a thousand times. It was ruined.

My hair was green with paint stuck to it. The girls quickly pinned it to cover the disarray behind my veil.

One muttered, “It’s okay.”
“We’ll clean it later,” another whispered.

The ceremony was delayed. Stacy hadn’t returned. Time slowed painfully. My bridesmaids wandered the room, checking their phones and seeming apprehensive.

Next, the door flew open. Stacy returned breathless and red-faced with a stunning white outfit.

“Dylan told everyone you ran away,” she rushed. “Graham panics.”

Heart fell. “HE SAID WHAT?!

Stacy nods. “People whisper. Graham seemed to be fainting.”

Something snapped inside me. I rose up, removed my veil, and let my green-stained hair fall. Room went quiet.

I stormed the chapel without speaking.

As I came down the aisle in my paint-stained attire, gasps echoed. Guests whispered while watching.

Graham stood pale and paralyzed at the altar.

“I didn’t flee!” I shouted, breaking the hush.

His head turned swiftly. Elise? he gasped, running to me.

He embraced me. Refused more tears.

“Dylan did this,” I said. “He painted me. I informed everyone I left.”

Graham’s face became hard. He faced the pews. “Dylan! What’s wrong with you?!

Dylan smirked while relaxing. “It was harmless prank.”

“That’s no prank!” Graham snapped. Each person is shaken. You ruined everything!”

Dylan said, “Geez, calm down, bro,” smugly.

I’m no longer young. You can’t meddle with my life.”

“And yet I’m still here,” Dylan mocked.

“Not for long,” I roared. “Leave.”

I was invited. He responded, “I’m staying,” crossing his arms.

Graham moved forward. “Leave. Now. Or I’ll remove you.”

Their mother stood up. Graham, he’s your brother.

Graham faced her, calmly firm. You can depart if you support him after this.”

She paused. Her face paled. She eventually remained silent.

Their parents remained mute. They snatched Dylan and departed without saying a thing.

Graham looked back at me, softening. He rested his forehead on mine.

“I was so scared,” he muttered.

Let the tension go with a gentle breath. “Thank you for defending me.”

“Always,” he said.

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