My Mother-in-Law Demands to Sit Between Her Son and Me at Our Wedding – She Didn't Expect Me to Agree So Easily

I sat quietly, not taking my eyes off her and mentally counting down the moments until my plan came to fruition.

It was time for the first dance, and I was ready for Patricia's next move.

Of course, when the music started and Ethan reached out to me, Patricia came like a hawk.

“Oh, Ethan, let’s show them how it’s done!” she said, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him onto the dance floor before I could respond.

I stood there watching them sway to the music.

Patricia beamed as she danced with her son, while the guests exchanged worried glances.

 “That’s… unusual,” I heard a guest mutter.

“Isn’t the first dance supposed to be with the bride?” another whispered.

But I just smiled, keeping a serene expression. If anyone thought I was upset, they were wrong.

Everything was going exactly as I wanted.

After what seemed like forever, Ethan finally came back to the table.

 "Sorry about that," he mumbled as he sat down.

“It’s fine,” I lied.

I glanced at Patricia, who was enjoying the attention she thought she had stolen.

And then came the moment I was waiting for. The cutting of the cake.

The lights went down and my bridesmaids brought out the three-tiered masterpiece, sparklers twinkling as the crowd clapped and cheered.

Patricia's smile widened as the cake approached, but when it was fully visible, she stared at it with wide eyes.

There were two figurines perched on the cake, and they did not represent a bride and groom.

Instead, they depicted a groom and his mother, arm in arm. The resemblance was uncanny. Ethan's tie and Patricia's pearl necklace were all there.

“Surprise!” I cheered. “How’s the cake, Patricia?”

“Julia…” she stammered, her voice shaking. “W-What does that mean?”

I stood up slowly, microphone in hand.

“Patricia, Ethan,” I smiled as I looked at them. “I wanted to honor the bond you two share. It’s clear to everyone here that you are the real couple of the evening. So please cut this beautiful symbol of your relationship together. You deserve it.”

The room erupted into murmurs, a few stifled laughs escaping here and there. Patricia's hands shook as I placed the knife in her hand.

“Go ahead,” I said kindly. “Everyone’s watching.”

Patricia turned to Ethan, her eyes pleading, but he was too stunned to speak.

“Julia,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “That’s inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate?” I echoed with mock surprise. “Oh, Patricia, don’t be so sensitive. After all, you’re the most important woman in his life. Isn’t that what you told me?”

A wave of laughter spread among the guests, and I knew they were on my side. Meanwhile, Patricia's friends exchanged embarrassed glances. They were clearly uncomfortable with the spectacle.

I leaned into the microphone one last time. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than fight for scraps of attention on my own wedding day.”

I turned on my heel, waved to my bridesmaids, and walked out of the reception.

Behind me, I heard chairs being dragged, whispers growing louder, and the faint clinking of glasses. The crowd began to disperse, leaving Patricia and Ethan in the spotlight.

When we reached the limo, my bridesmaids and I were laughing so hard we could barely breathe.

We popped champagne and toasted freedom. They understood why I had decided not to marry Ethan.

Later I heard that Patricia tried to save face, but even her closest friends had their limits.

"You asked for it yourself," one of them reportedly told him.

And Ethan? Well, he came begging me to give him another chance, but I was done. I canceled the marriage license the next morning and officially closed that chapter of my life.

No regrets, no doubts. Just a huge relief and the certainty that Patricia finally got the attention she had always dreamed of.

What would you have done in my place?