Bride’s ‘Dead’ Fiancé Crashes Her Wedding and Reveals a Shocking Secret

A young woman is at the altar about to marry a man she doesn’t love when she sees her dead fiancé among the guests.

Sarah looked in the mirror and tucked her favorite gold chain out of sight. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, but she felt like crying.

“Now, don’t you cry!” the makeup artist said quickly, putting powder under Sarah’s eyes. “You’ll ruin my work!”

Across the room, Sarah’s mother smiled weakly. “Tears of joy,” she said, but she knew they were tears of sadness.

What should have been Sarah’s dream wedding had turned into a nightmare. Sarah adjusted her wedding dress and felt the weight of her engagement ring against her chest. It was a delicate ring with a tiny diamond, very different from the large ring now on her left hand.

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“This is your choice,” Sarah told herself softly. “Now that David is gone, it doesn’t really matter who you marry.” The man she was marrying was nice, but he was chosen by her father.

Frank Melville was the son of Sarah’s father’s business partner. Their marriage would strengthen a business deal that had made both men very rich.

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Sarah’s true love, David O’Reilly, had died three years ago in a terrible car accident. David was her driver when Sarah was a young celebrity, always chased by paparazzi.

It should have been the happiest day of Sarah’s life, but all she could think about was David.

Sarah remembered how she sometimes caught David watching her in the car’s mirror. She would look away. Then one night, she drank too much at a club, or maybe someone slipped her something.

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Feeling sick and helpless, she called David. He came right away and helped her out of the club when she couldn’t stand.

To her embarrassment, she vomited, and David held her hair back and rubbed her back, saying comforting words. He helped her clean up and took care of her.

From that moment on, Sarah started watching David. Eventually, she convinced him to go on a date with her. They fell in love, and one day David gave her a delicate ring with a tiny diamond.

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Sarah had been living the wild life of a party girl until she met David.

She happily said yes, thinking her parents would also be happy about her marrying a driver who had no money.

“But Daddy,” Sarah cried, “you always said what mattered was that I was happy!”

“You can be just as happy with a rich man,” her father replied. “Forget O’Reilly; he’s a loser.” But Sarah loved David and fought for their love. She believed her parents would eventually accept him.

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That happy day never came. Instead, Sarah got a phone call while she was with her family. She saw her father go pale.

“Sarah, be brave, my love,” he said gently. “It’s David; there was an accident, a terrible accident…”

Sarah screamed and her father held her tightly while her mother sat nearby, twisting her hands and biting her lips.

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That was the last day of her old life, the life where she believed in lasting love and happy endings. Two months later, Sarah told her parents she was pregnant.

They wanted her to end the pregnancy, but she refused. “This is all I have of David, and I’m having this baby!”

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They had to give in to her strong will, especially with her grandmother on her side. Gran had real power in the family. Sarah’s father reluctantly accepted the pregnancy, and they spread the rumor that the father was a billionaire.

Sarah’s little girl was born, and for once, the family didn’t make a big deal out of it. Little Rachel’s existence was a secret. Soon after Rachel was born, Sarah’s father began pushing her toward Frank Melville.

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Sarah sighed and lowered her delicate lace veil. “I’m ready,” she said. She picked up her bouquet and allowed her mother and bridesmaids to lead her downstairs to the waiting limousine.

A man in a wheelchair arrived at the church first. He wore a dark suit and had a bunch of wildflowers in his lap. When the usher asked him who he was with, he said, “The bride.”

He hadn’t seen Sarah in almost two years, but he turned on the TV yesterday and saw her. “Socialite Sarah Farmin, who has been away from the city’s social scene, is about to get married!”

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“Not if I can help it!” David cried, turning off the TV. He remembered waking up in a hospital two years ago with his legs useless.

His mother, who had breathing problems, had been crying at his bedside. Then Sarah’s father, the powerful Greg Farmin, walked in. “You’re crippled,” he said bluntly. “What kind of life is that for Sarah? You know she’ll marry you, but you’ll be half a man.”

“What do you want?” David asked.

“I want you to stay away from Sarah. Let her believe you are dead so she can live a happy life,” Farmin said. “In return, you and your mother will get the best care money can buy.”

So David agreed, and Farmin kept his promise. David slowly got better, but his mother eventually died.

“I can’t let her do this,” David thought. “I have to tell her I’m alive.” So, when Sarah walked down the aisle with her father, David waited for his moment.

When Sarah reached Frank and the best man, her father gently lifted her veil and kissed her forehead. Just as he was about to give her away, a voice interrupted.

“Sarah,” it said. “Please don’t do this.”

Sarah turned and saw David in his wheelchair, wildflowers in his lap.

“David?” she whispered, shocked. “Oh my God, David? I must be dreaming…” Was he a ghost or a hallucination?

“It’s me,” David said, wheeling toward her. “I’m alive, but I thought you’d be better off without me.”

“Without you?” Sarah gasped. “I’ve been DEAD without you! The only thing that kept me alive was our baby, our little Rachel.”

“Baby?” David asked, shocked. “You had a baby?” He turned to Greg Farmin. “You never told me about the baby!”

“Daddy!” Sarah cried. “You knew David was alive and didn’t tell me?”

“I wanted to protect you,” Greg said defensively. He turned to David. “You gave me your word and took my money.”

“You paid him to stay away?” Sarah yelled. “You broke my heart!” Turning to Frank, she said with a sad smile, “I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you. I’m going to marry the father of my child.”

Sarah walked back toward David and hugged him. “You marry that man, and you’ll end up with nothing,” Greg shouted. “You won’t get a cent!”

Sarah’s grandmother stood up, looking at her son coldly. “Shut up, Greg. It’s not your money to give away. It’s mine, and I think Sarah and David deserve it all!”

Sarah and David got married and lived with little Rachel in a small house they bought with their own money, even though Gran wanted to buy them a luxury apartment. They knew they didn’t need luxury now that they had each other.

My Mother-in-Law Filled My Home with Cockroaches to Tarnish My Reputation as a Housekeeper – My Retaliation Was Severe

Elara thought marriage would be her happily ever after, until cockroaches invaded her home and her mother-in-law made her life a living nightmare. But when a dark secret blurred the line between victim and villain, Elara realized that revenge was the only way out.

I’m Elara, and I’ve been married to my husband, Jacob, for about a year now. Life, for the most part, has been good, really good, actually. We settled into married life with ease, enjoying the simple pleasures of being together.

Jacob is everything I could have asked for in a husband. He is kind, supportive, and always there when I need him. But, as with most things in life, there’s a catch.

That catch is my mother-in-law, Agnes.

From the very beginning, it was clear as day that she never liked me. Whether it was the way she looked at me or the not-so-subtle digs she made, her attitude was unmistakable. I’m not sure what I did to deserve her disdain, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that she saw me as an intruder in her son’s life.

Still, she’s Jacob’s mother, and for that reason alone, I’ve tried my best to live with it. To smile through her snide remarks and keep the peace, for Jacob’s sake. But no amount of forced smiles could prepare me for what came next.

Just when I thought I could handle her passive-aggressive digs, things took a turn for the worse.

For the past month, my house has felt like something out of a nightmare. No, scratch that. MY LIFE has felt like something out of a nightmare.

It started with a cockroach here and there. One scuttling across the kitchen counter. Another creeping along the bathroom floor.

But soon, they were everywhere. And I mean EVERYWHERE! The kitchen, the bathroom, the living room, hell, even our bedroom wasn’t safe. I’d wake up in the middle of the night feeling a tickle on my arm, only to flick on the light and see a roach making itself at home on my bed.

We called pest control multiple times. We bought traps, sprays, you name it. But no matter what we did, the roaches kept coming back, like they had some vendetta against me. And to top it all off, my mother-in-law just couldn’t resist rubbing it in.

“Honestly, Elara,” she’d say with that sickly sweet tone of hers, “you really should take better care of the house. Jacob deserves a clean home. How can you let it get this bad?”

It didn’t stop there. One afternoon, as she sipped tea in our living room, a roach had the nerve to crawl up the wall. Agnes’s eyes followed it with a look of exaggerated horror.

“My goodness, Elara,” she gasped, clutching her chest as if she were witnessing a crime. “I can’t imagine how embarrassed you must be, living in these conditions. I never had this problem when Jacob was growing up.”

Then there was the time she “helpfully” brought over a stack of cleaning supplies, dumping them on my kitchen counter with a too-bright smile. “I thought you could use these, dear,” she said, her voice oozing with false concern. “Maybe they’ll help you get a handle on things. I’d hate for people to think you can’t keep a clean house.”

Each comment was a jab, a twist of the knife, making me feel smaller and more inadequate every time. It was as if she reveled in my struggle, her words like salt in an already festering wound.

Every time she opened her mouth, it took everything in me not to scream. I’d nod, smile, and tell her I was doing my best, but inside, I was seething. This isn’t my fault, you old witch! I wanted to shout. But of course, I couldn’t do that. Not to Jacob’s mother.

But then, the universe threw me a bone. Or rather, Agnes made a mistake. She’d come over to “check on us” again, dropping her little barbs like confetti. As she left, she accidentally left her handbag on the couch. When I went to pick it up and move it, a receipt fluttered out. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but something caught my eye.

It was from a pet store. But not just any pet store—one that specialized in reptiles. And the item purchased? LIVE COCKROACHES!

My blood ran cold. For a moment, I just stood there, staring at that stupid piece of paper in my hand. And then, slowly, the realization hit me. Agnes was behind the infestation. She’d been sabotaging me, setting me up to look like the world’s worst housekeeper.

The anger that flared up inside me was blinding. I could feel it burning in my chest, my hands trembling with the force of it. But along with the anger came something else—something darker.

I wasn’t just going to confront her. No, that would be letting her off too easily. I was going to get revenge.

I stormed out of the house, receipt still clenched in my hand, and got into my car. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew I needed to strike back. Hard. As I drove, my thoughts raced, and then it hit me. I made a quick detour to that same pet store. If she wanted to play dirty, then I’d go nuclear.

Inside, I found exactly what I was looking for—a potent animal attractant. The kind hunters use to lure wild animals from miles away. The plan formed in my head like a beautiful, terrible flower, blooming with each passing second.

When I finally pulled up to Agnes’s house, night had fallen. She lived on the outskirts of town, right next to the woods, which made this perfect. I crept around her yard, spreading the attractant everywhere. The bushes, the flower beds, even the base of the house itself. I didn’t stop there.

I slipped inside — she always left the back door unlocked, trusting as ever — and sprinkled some inside too. The whole time, my heart raced with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

By the time I finished, I was practically shaking with anticipation. I couldn’t wait to see what would happen. But for now, I went home, crawled into bed, and let sleep take me. And oh, how sweet that sleep was.

I dreamed of revenge, of Agnes’s horrified face, of the chaos I had unleashed, and I drifted deeper into that blissful darkness, savoring every second.

Then, just as I was reliving the final moments of my delicious payback, the shrill ring of the phone yanked me from my dream. I groggily reached for it, my heart pounding. It was Jacob, and from the frantic tone of his voice, I knew something big had happened.

“Elara, you won’t believe this,” he said, half laughing, half in shock. “Mom’s house was… attacked last night!”

I sat up in bed, trying to sound groggy. “Attacked? By who?”

“Not who—what. Animals. The whole yard was swarmed! Deer, moose, foxes, even birds! They trashed everything! They tore up the garden and broke the fences. And the smell… God, the whole place reeks. It’s like the animals turned the yard into their personal toilet.”

It took everything in me to keep from bursting out laughing. “That’s awful! What’s she going to do?”

“She’s coming to stay with us until it’s cleaned up. She doesn’t have a choice.”

I felt my stomach drop. Great, I didn’t think this through. But I couldn’t let him hear the panic in my voice. “Oh, okay. We’ll make it work.”

When Agnes arrived later that day, the look on her face was priceless. She was humiliated, furious, and worst of all, powerless. She barely acknowledged me as she walked inside, nose wrinkling at the sight of the cockroaches that still plagued our house.

“Oh, don’t mind them,” I said sweetly. “They just won’t go away, no matter what we do.”

I waited until later that night, after Jacob and I were alone, to show him the receipt. He stared at it, his face hardening as the truth sank in.

“She did WHAT?” he exclaimed, disbelief giving way to anger.

“Apparently, she’s been planting roaches in the house this whole time. I found this after she left yesterday,” I said, handing him the damning piece of paper.

Jacob stormed into the guest room, confronting Agnes right then and there. She tried to deny it, but the receipt was undeniable. She stammered out an apology, her face going red with shame.

“I didn’t think it would go this far,” she mumbled, eyes glued to the floor.

“Well, it did,” Jacob snapped. “And you’re paying for the pest control and all the damage you caused. Until it’s done, you’ll have to live among the cockroaches YOU brought into our lives.”

As I listened to their exchange, a smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Sure, I hadn’t planned on Agnes moving in, but at least now she was getting what she deserved.

Lying in bed that night, I felt a deep, dark satisfaction settle over me. Revenge might not always be sweet, but sometimes, it’s just what you need to get by. And as for Agnes? Well, let’s just say she’ll be sleeping with the roaches tonight.

And for many nights to come.

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