After a chance encounter and years of dating, Ryan and Hanna are about to walk down the aisle and commit to each other. But when Ryan’s mother reveals an incriminating video of Ryan with another woman, Hanna feels her heartbreak. But later, the truth of the video is revealed, along with more deceit than Hanna ever expected.
Do parents just enjoy dropping bombshells before weddings? When I say before—I mean 30 minutes before?
Because that’s exactly what Ryan’s mother did.
An old clock on a piece of newspaper | Source: Pexels
Ryan and I met two years ago—it was one of those by-chance meetings. I was at the community theatre because one of my friends, Mila, was in the local musical with her directorial debut.
So, there I was, standing outside after the performance, holding a bouquet of flowers for Mila. Ryan walked out, and because of the crowd, walked directly into me, crushing the flowers.
A red curtain at a theatre | Source: Unsplash
“I am so sorry,” he said, picking up the bouquet.
“I hate crowds,” I said.
He chuckled and gestured for us to move away from the door.
“I’m not a fan either,” he said. “I’m Ryan.”
“Hanna,” I said, introducing myself.
Crumpled rose petals | Source: Pexels
Just three months into our romance, Ryan proposed in a pub while drinking Guinness and eating crispy potato skins.
Last week, we should have sealed that promise with our wedding vows. But our wedding went in the complete opposite direction it should have gone.
An interior of a pub | Source: Unsplash
Initially, my family welcomed Ryan with open arms. As the only daughter, my parents were thrilled that I had met someone who genuinely made me happy.
“This is a different side to you, Hanna,” my mother said one evening when we had Ryan over for family dinner.
“He makes her happy,” my father said, smiling. “That’s all a father could want.”
An elderly couple embracing a younger couple | Source: Pexels
Ryan felt welcome—he felt the warmth that they showered him, and through that, we grew stronger as a couple, too.
On his side, it was more or less the same thing. The Coles opened their home and hearts to me, and they wanted nothing more than to have us over as much as possible. Mrs. Cole, Audrey, had gotten into a coffee date and manicure routine with me, too.
A person getting their nails done | Source: Pexels
Everything felt right—until the very moment it wasn’t.
Leading up to our wedding, I was the calmest I could have been. It was a small church wedding, and Ryan and I had planned the intimate affair right down to the little details. We knew exactly what we wanted and how to make it special for our day.
But on what was meant to be the happiest day of my life, just before the ceremony, my soon-to-be mother-in-law pulled me aside.
Flowers and tulle along church pews | Source: Pexels
“Darling,” she said. “Can we chat for a moment?”
I nodded and told her to wait until my glam team was done with my hair and makeup.
Something about her demeanor made me feel anxious and nervous. I watched her movements from my reflection in the mirror.
Her eyes moved around the room quickly, often settling on my wedding dress hanging from its hook.
When I was ready, and my mother was buttoning up my dress, I turned to Audrey.
A hanging wedding dress | Source: Pexels
“I’m ready when you are,” I said, smiling at her.
Her eyes glazed over, seeing me in the dress. She had been at my fittings before, but this was the moment that Audrey and my mother would see the full effect of my bridal outfit.
“Hanna,” Audrey said. “There’s no easy way for me to say this.”
A bride in her wedding outfit | Source: Pexels
My heart thundered in my chest. While my hair was being done, and I sat watching her, I knew that nothing good was going to come from our conversation.
“Just say it,” I said. “Tell me.”
Audrey pulled her phone out of her clutch and held it out for me.
A woman holding a phone | Source: Pexels
“There are videos on this phone that will explain everything. I am so sorry, Hanna, but Ryan needs to be caught out.”
My mind raced. I couldn’t fathom what I was about to see once her phone was unlocked.
“Here,” she said, handing me her phone as a woman’s voice echoed through the room.
The videos on Audrey’s phone revealed Ryan with another woman, in clandestine affection, undeniable betrayal.
An upset woman | Source: Pixabay
“Are you sure?” I asked. “This is him?”
Audrey closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Well, look at the jacket on the bed,” she said. “Isn’t that the one you got him?”
I pressed play again, and looked at the jacket. The hotel room also looked familiar—I was so sure that we had been there before.
“But Ryan’s face isn’t in the frame,” I said.
A man wearing a black jacket | Source: Unsplash
I was struggling. I couldn’t believe that my almost mother-in-law was standing in front of me with a video showing her son’s affair.
“Hanna,” she said slowly. “It’s right in front of you. You can choose to overlook it, but think of the man that you would be marrying if you choose to ignore it. Could you live with yourself knowing that? Could you live with him?”
I shook my head. I wanted to cry because of how overwhelmed I was.
“Fine,” I said.
“You’re calling off the wedding?” Audrey asked, hope lining her voice.
A smiling older woman | Source: Pexels
“No,” I said. “I’m going to walk down that aisle. I’m going to walk to the man who has been unfaithful to me. And when the time comes for our vows, I’ll break it off then.”
“Okay, dear,” Audrey said, putting her phone back into her bag. “It’s almost time now, anyway.”
I sat down on the chaise, and waited for my father to come and get me when it was time to marry Ryan. I wanted nothing more than to get into a car and drive away to some place where I could eat my feelings in a mountain of fries.
A father and bride walking down a hallway | Source: Unsplash
My heart violently pounded with fury as I approached the altar on my father’s arm. Ryan, aware of the storm brewing beneath my skin, smiled tenderly at me. He took my hand and squeezed it.
It would have been absolutely perfect, except for the fact that he had been with someone else.
Our priest went on to quote scripture about love and matrimony from the Bible. And when it was time for our vows, my heart quietened down—finally realizing what was about to come.
A groom at the altar | Source: Pexels
“I don’t,” I said softly, more to the ground than to Ryan.
“Speak louder, Hanna,” the priest said.
“I don’t!” I said more confidently, the words echoing like a resounding shockwave.
Ryan’s shock morphed into confusion as I repeated those two words again.
“Hanna? What?” he asked, hurt and betrayal deep in his voice.
A couple at the altar | Source: Unsplash
“Ask your mom,” I said, pointing at Audrey. “Mrs. Cole, please tell everyone what you told me earlier.”
The church hushed immediately, as if everyone were holding their breath. With shaking hands, she opened her bag and took out her phone. Like earlier, she held it out to me.
“Look,” I said to Ryan.
Ryan took a step back, almost falling over the wedding arch.
“That is not me, Hanna!” he said loudly. “Hanna, you know it’s not me!”
I refused to look him in the eye.
A woman holding a phone | Source: Unsplash
Then he confronted his mother.
“Mom, what is all this? What is that? Where did you get that video?”
Audrey shook her head and walked down the aisle, leaving the church in silence.
I could not bear to hear Ryan’s excuses.
“Hanna, please,” he said. “I need you to believe me.”
And I wanted to. Of course, I wanted to believe the man I loved. But it was clear, the jacket that I bought him lay across the bed in the video. He had been with someone else.
An upset man | Source: Unsplash
And if there was the possibility that he wasn’t with another person—how would he explain the video? And the woman who was barely dressed? And the sound effects?
“I can’t do this,” I said. “I won’t.”
I ran out of the side door, my parents following closely behind.
Ryan continued to reach out to me for the rest of the day—and when night settled, I finally blocked his number.
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
Yet, two days later, when I was wrapped in a blanket wondering where everything had gone wrong—Ryan showed up at my parents’ house with takeout and flowers.
“You expect this to fix everything?” I asked.
“I need to talk,” he said simply.
Against my better judgment, I listened.
What Ryan revealed next sent me down another spiral.
He had confronted Audrey after the wedding.
Tulips in a vase | Source: Pexels
“I went straight to her house,” he said. “She was sitting there, in her kitchen, eating toast and listening to old records as though she hadn’t just ruined our wedding.”
“I think you did that,” I blurted out.
“Hanna,” he warned. “My mother orchestrated that video. The people in it are her students. And it was all because she didn’t want us to get married.”
My jaw hit the ground.
A shocked woman covering her eyes | Source: Unsplash
Audrey was a high school teacher—but she also tutored first-year college kids in English. So, when it truly came down to the fact that Ryan and I were actually getting married, she panicked. She called two of her college students, who were too eager to make a bit of extra money, to play the part.
“I thought she liked me,” I said while digging into the food Ryan had brought over. “Clearly she doesn’t if she put an entire video together.”
“She did say that the sounds were edited,” Ryan chuckled nervously. “But I’ve got to hand it to her, adding my jacket was a good touch.”
A black jacket lying on a bed | Source: Unsplash
I didn’t understand how I felt. For the past two days, since walking away from my own wedding—I convinced myself that Ryan had been the bad guy in my story. That he was the villain who broke my heart, while his mother exposed him for who he was.
And yet, the reality was so much worse.
Here was a woman who had claimed me as the daughter she never had, only to break my heart before marrying her son.
She believed I was unworthy of Ryan.
I forgave Ryan immediately, and he did the same in return—I did accuse him of cheating on me in front of all our guests.
A woman sitting and looking out the window | Source: Pexels
We’re still together, but I don’t know what the future holds. For now, I feel hurt and betrayed by Audrey. And I know that forgiveness will be difficult to come by for her.
What would you do?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
My Mother-in-Law Tried to Ruin Our Wedding by Pitting Us against Each Other
Maya, as a wedding planner, is used to crazy weddings. So, when her wedding rolls around, she thinks that she has planned everything right down to the final detail. Until her fiancé goes missing and her mother-in-law plots for the end of their relationship…
As a wedding planner, I’ve had my fair share of crazy weddings. From bridezillas to lazy grooms, to the most insane requests. Once, I had a couple who wanted to say their vows on a hot air balloon — only for the bride to realize that she was afraid of heights.
For my wedding, I was so sure that Fred and I were ready. That we had finally gotten everything done right. But I even so, I wanted my colleague, Jenna, to take over the logistics behind the wedding. I wanted to have my moment as a bride.
An orange hot air balloon | Source: Pexels
Fred knew that I was in my element when it came to our wedding, so he left everything to me — other than making sure that there would be sliders are the wedding reception, everything was on me.
We met Jenna in a restaurant about a year before our wedding, and I gave her everything she needed to know in a planner. It was going to be easy for her — all she needed to do was the admin behind the plans. And to bring the vision to life.
“Maya,” she said, sipping on her drink. “This is perfect. You’ve planned everything.”
A wedding planner’s notebook | Source: Pexels
Everything was ticking along perfectly, with each detail meticulously planned and poised for what was meant to be the happiest day of our lives.
Until three nights before the wedding, when all hell broke loose.
A couple sitting at a table | Source: Pexels
It must have been around 8PM, and I was unwinding by watching reality television and eating a slice of pie.
I had my nail appointment the next morning, and I was finally starting to feel like a bride. In the past few weeks, Fred and I seemed to find anything and everything to fight about. We argued with no reason, until it was time to sleep.
At least, this week, Fred was staying with his best man.
“Just to get him out of your hair for a bit, Maya,” he said.
“You’ll get no complaints from me,” I told him. “Just keep him out of trouble.”
A brown duffel bag on the floor | Source: Unsplash
But it’s never so simple, right?
No. My doorbell rang, disrupting my night in.
The person standing on the other side was a delivery man, holding a huge bouquet of flowers.
“That’s beautiful,” I said. “Who is it from?”
“There’s a card, ma’am,” the delivery man said.
He handed the bouquet to me and turned around to walk down the stairs.
A bouquet of flowers | Source: Pexels
“Oh, Fred,” I said, sniffing the flowers.
Sending me random flowers was something that he would do.
But then I read the card and my heart dropped into the pit of my stomach.
I Don’t was written on the card.
All the air inside my lungs suddenly went out. I sat down on the couch and cried my heart out.
After a few hours, I called Fred about twenty times. He never picked up.
A woman holding a phone at night | Source: Pexels
Want to know what happens next? Read the full story here!
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
I Saved a Little Girl – Then Saw a Photo in a Black Frame That Looked Just like Me in Her Wealthy Grandma’s Mansion
Sprinting to save a little girl from danger had my heart racing, but stepping into her grandmother’s mansion stopped it cold. On the wall hung an old photo of a man who looked like me but belonged to another era. Who was he? The truth that followed would haunt me forever.
Not much happens in my neighborhood just outside the city. The streets are quiet, lined with maple trees and modest homes, their weathered shingles telling stories of decades gone by.
The autumn air carries the sweet scent of decaying leaves, nature’s reminder that everything changes. At least, that’s what I thought until that crisp October afternoon when a simple trip to the grocery store changed everything.
A shocked man on the road | Source: Midjourney
As I walked home with my bags, I spotted a little girl, no older than six, sitting in the middle of the road. She was crying over her scraped knee while her bicycle lay on its side, its wheel still spinning lazily in the afternoon light.
My heart stopped when I saw where she was sitting — right before that notorious curve where drivers always speed, their tires squealing against the asphalt like angry cats.
The sound of an approaching engine made my blood run cold.
“Hey! Watch out!” I dropped my groceries, eggs cracking with a wet splat as the bag hit the pavement, the oranges rolling away like escaping prisoners. But none of that mattered.
A teary-eyed little girl on the road | Source: Midjourney
I sprinted toward her, my feet barely touching the ground, lungs burning with each breath. Time seemed to slow, the world narrowing to just me and this child in danger.
The engine roared closer, its growl growing more menacing with each passing second. I scooped her up just as a red sedan whipped around the corner, the rush of air from its passing ruffling our clothes, missing us by inches. The driver didn’t even slow down, leaving only the acrid smell of burnt rubber in their wake.
The little girl clung to my jacket like a lifeline, her tears soaking through to my shirt, creating dark patches that matched my racing heart.
A speeding red car on a curvy road | Source: Midjourney
“My knee hurts,” she whimpered, her voice small and broken. “I’m scared. I’m so scared.” Her fingers dug into my shoulders, seeking comfort in their grip.
“I know, sweetheart. I know,” I said, gently stroking her hair. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you. Nothing’s going to hurt you. What’s your name?” I pulled back slightly to look at her tear-stained face, her eyes wide with lingering fear.
“Evie,” she sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. A purple butterfly barrette hung crookedly in her disheveled brown hair.
“Hi Evie, I’m Logan. Where are your parents?” I asked, helping her stand on shaky legs.
A worried man on the road | Source: Midjourney
She pointed down the street, hiccupping between words. “Mommy… she drove away. I tried to follow her on my bike, but I fell, and she didn’t see me, and—” Her voice broke completely, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Which house is yours?” I asked softly, crouching down to her level.
“The big one.” She sniffled again, twisting the hem of her pink sweater between her fingers. “With the black gate. Grandma’s watching me today. I wasn’t supposed to leave, but I just wanted to see Mommy.”
I helped her up, retrieved her bike, a pink and white affair with streamers dangling from the handlebars, and walked beside her as she limped along, her small hand gripping mine tightly.
A child holding a man’s hand | Source: Pexels
The “big house” turned out to be an enormous mansion that made the rest of the neighborhood look like dollhouses, its stone facade glowing warmly in the late afternoon sun.
When we reached the ornate iron gate, Evie pressed a button on the intercom with trembling fingers. “Grandma! It’s me!” Her voice cracked with fresh tears, echoing slightly in the metal speaker.
The gate buzzed open immediately with a deep metallic groan, and an elderly woman rushed out the front door, her silver hair catching the sunlight like spun moonbeams, her face etched with worry lines deep as river valleys.
A shocked older lady | Source: Midjourney
“Evie! Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!” She wrapped the girl in a fierce hug, her manicured hands clutching desperately at Evie’s sweater. “I looked away for one minute and you were gone! I’ve been calling everywhere!”
“I fell,” Evie mumbled into her grandmother’s shoulder, fresh tears welling up and spilling over. “I wanted to catch up to Mommy, but—”
“Oh, darling,” the woman kissed her granddaughter’s forehead, then looked up at me with eyes swimming with gratitude.
“Thank you for bringing her home. I’m Vivienne. Please, come in and have some tea while I tend to her knee. Please.” Her voice carried the refined accent of old money, but genuine warmth underlay it.
A worried older woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
Inside, Vivienne cleaned Evie’s scrape with gentle hands while I sat awkwardly on an antique sofa that probably cost more than my monthly salary, its burgundy velvet soft beneath my fingers.
The mansion’s interior was like something from a movie — crystal chandeliers throwing rainbow prisms across the walls, oil paintings in gilt frames watching us with ancient eyes, and Persian rugs so thick my feet sank into them like fresh snow.
“There now, darling. All better?” Vivienne placed a plaster with prancing unicorns on Evie’s knee.
A luxurious mansion | Source: Midjourney
Evie nodded, already distracted by her tablet, the screen’s glow reflecting in her still-damp eyes. “Can I go play, Grandma? I want to show Uncle Logan my room later!” Her voice had regained its childish enthusiasm.
I smiled at being called “Uncle” so quickly by this child I’d just met, warmth spreading through my chest at the innocent acceptance.
“Of course, dear. But stay inside this time,” Vivienne said firmly, her voice carrying an edge of lingering fear. “Promise me? No more adventures today.”
“I promise!” Evie hopped down and hugged my legs with surprising strength. “Thank you for saving me, Logan. You’re my hero!”
A cheerful little girl looking up and smiling | Source: Midjourney
As Evie skipped away, her footsteps echoing on the marble floor, Vivienne turned to thank me. But the words died on her lips when she looked closely at me.
She stared at me like she’d seen a ghost, her face draining of color until it matched her pearls. Her hand clutched the back of a chair, knuckles white with tension.
“Ma’am?” I shifted uncomfortably under her intense gaze. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Without answering, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me down the hallway, her heels clicking rapidly on the polished floor. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone her age, urgent and almost desperate.
A startled man in a mansion | Source: Midjourney
We stopped in front of a wall covered in old photographs — generations of faces in ornate frames, their eyes following us through time.
My eyes swept over the faces until I FROZE at one particular picture.
“Wait. WHAT IS THIS?” I stepped closer to a photo in a black frame, my heart suddenly pounding against my ribs. “That’s impossible.” My breath fogged the glass as I leaned in closer.
The man in the photograph could have been my twin. The resemblance was so striking it was almost supernatural. The same dark eyes with their slight tilt at the corners, the same sharp jawline that could cut glass, and the same slight smile playing at the edges of his mouth.
A man looking at a framed photo on the wall | Source: Midjourney
Even the way he tilted his head matched my mannerisms perfectly. But his clothes belonged to another era entirely — a perfectly tailored suit from decades past.
“Who is he?”
Vivienne’s hands trembled as she touched the frame, her fingers tracing the edge like a blind woman reading braille. “My brother. Henry.” Her voice cracked on the name.
“Your brother?”
“He vanished 50 years ago.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth, trying to hold back tears. “We never knew what happened to him. The police searched for months, but nothing. It was like he vanished into thin air, taking all our answers with him.”
An emotional woman covering her mouth | Source: Midjourney
We sat in her study, the photo between us on an antique coffee table inlaid with mother-of-pearl. Outside, rain began to fall, drumming against leaded glass windows like impatient fingers.
“Tell me about him,” I said, leaning forward in my leather chair. “Please. Everything you remember. Every detail matters now.”
Vivienne twisted her wedding ring, lost in memories that seemed to play across her face like an old film. “Henry was complicated. Brilliant when he applied himself, charming when he wanted to be. He could light up a room just by walking into it. But he hated responsibility and chafed against every rule—” she paused.
A teary-eyed older woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
“Our father wanted him to take over the family business. We owned half the factories in town back then. But Henry…” She shook her head, her silver hair catching the lamplight. “He just wanted to party and live freely. Said life was too short for boardrooms and balance sheets. Said he was suffocating in our father’s shadow.”
“What happened after that?”
“Father gave him an ultimatum: step up or get cut off. When Henry chose freedom over his inheritance, our father followed through. Henry exploded, leaving a horrible letter calling him a tyrant and disappearing into the night. His last words were that he’d rather run away than become our father.”
A man walking alone on an empty street | Source: Pexels
“And you never heard from him again?”
“Not a word.” She studied my face with intensity, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I was 16 when he left. I kept expecting him to show up at my wedding, or when father died. But he never did. Just silence, year after year.”
She leaned forward, her hand reaching across the space between us. “What about your father? What do you know about him?”
An anxious woman sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
I let out a bitter laugh, running my fingers through my hair.
“Nothing. He left when I was three. Mom never talked about him. She’d just get angry if I asked, her face going dark like storm clouds. Said he was a coward who couldn’t handle being a father. She died last year. Took all her secrets with her to the grave.”
Vivienne nodded, her fingers tracing the edge of the frame with a tenderness that spoke of years of memories. After a pause, I asked softly, “But if your brother was so bad, why did you keep his photo?”
A suspicious man sitting on the couch | Source: Midjourney
Her eyes softened, tears gathering at the corners as she looked at the photo again. “Because love doesn’t vanish with disappointment, Logan. He was my brother. When our mother died, he’d sit with me for hours, just holding my hand. He wasn’t perfect. Yes, he ran from responsibility, chased pleasure over purpose, but—”
She took a shaky breath. “When we were young, his laugh could light up the darkest room. He had this warmth about him that made you feel safe. I was so young then, seeing the world in black and white. Now, with age, I understand that people aren’t just good or bad. They’re human. In my heart, he’s not the man who ran away. He’s the brother who taught me to ride a bike, who scared away my nightmares. He’s just someone who lost his way while trying to find himself.”
An emotional woman looking at someone with teary eyes | Source: Midjourney
“Logan,” she reached for my hand, her fingers warm against mine. “I know this may sound crazy. Would you consider taking a DNA test? I know it’s a lot to ask, but the resemblance between you and Henry is uncanny. It’s almost like you’re his mirror image.”
I was stunned. The request was out of the blue, but the quiet desperation in her eyes intrigued me. Maybe this could be the key to the answers I sought. I agreed to the test, and she took care of the arrangements.
Two weeks later, I stood in Vivienne’s study again, holding the test results in hands that wouldn’t stop trembling. The paper crinkled softly, each sound like a thunderclap in the quiet room.
Close-up of a man holding a medical document | Source: Midjourney
My hands shook as I read the words that rewrote my entire life story. The rainy afternoon that brought me here seemed like a lifetime ago, yet as fresh as yesterday.
“I can’t believe it,” Vivienne whispered, tears streaming down her face, catching the light like diamonds. “All this time… Henry was your father. You’re my nephew. You’re family!”
Evie bounded into the room, clutching a stuffed unicorn with a rainbow mane. “Grandma, can we have cookies? Logan promised to see my new dollhouse!” Her eyes sparkled with childish excitement, unaware of the momentous revelation hanging in the air.
A cheerful little girl holding a stuffed unicorn | Source: Midjourney
Vivienne pulled her close, wiping her eyes with a trembling hand. “Of course, darling. But first, I’d like you to meet someone very special. Remember how you called Logan ‘uncle’ before? Well, he really is your Uncle Logan. He’s part of our family!”
“Really?” Evie’s eyes widened like saucers, her mouth forming a perfect O of surprise. “Like, for real and true?”
I knelt down to her level, my eyes misting over. “For real and true, princess. For real and true.”
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
I stood there feeling pieces of my identity clicking into place like a long-forgotten puzzle.
And suddenly, everything made sense: family isn’t just about blood ties; it’s about finding the people who truly matter, even if they were strangers just yesterday. Sometimes, the longest journeys lead us right where we were meant to be all along.
A man standing beside a framed photo of his doppelganger | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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