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Sunlight glowed through stained glass as Elsa stepped into the chapel, lace trailing like liquid moonlight. Months of planning crystallized into this moment—candlelight, roses, the scent of vanilla frosting curling from their three-tiered cake. Jack’s grin flashed too wide when she took the knife, but realization struck too late. The blade sank. A deafening *pop* tore through the silence. Icing erupted like a grenade, splattering pearls, silk, and Elsa’s stunned gasp with clumps of fondant. Murmurs swelled as pink smears dripped down her veil. Jack scratched his neck. "Surprise…?" Her glare could’ve frozen the champagne. Now stranded in a ruined gown with mascara bleeding into her cheeks, Elsa needs you—*fast*. Raid the boutique upstairs for fresh satin and pearls, scrub away the mess, and reboot this disaster into a comeback story. The clock’s ticking: guests are whispering, the priest’s checking his watch, and Jack’s hiding behind the cake stand. Ready to rewrite this wedding?
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