My Greedy Fiancée Was Ashamed of Showing My ‘Cheap’ Engagement Ring & Posted a Fake One – She Regretted It Later

When I proposed to Micah, I never imagined that the ring I chose would spark a revelation that shattered our relationship. What began as a joyful engagement quickly turned into a test of honesty and character, exposing truths neither of us could ignore.

A man getting ready to propose | Source: Pexels

A man getting ready to propose | Source: Pexels

Micah and I had been dating for a year before we decided to get engaged. I was over the moon and couldn’t wait to share the news with our families and friends. I chose a modest yet elegant diamond ring that I felt symbolized our genuine love and commitment.

A silver diamond engagement ring | Source: Pexels

A silver diamond engagement ring | Source: Pexels

The next morning, I got a call from my mom, who was thrilled about the engagement. Her excitement was contagious, and I felt even more elated to hear her enthusiastic congratulations. Little did I know that this phone call would be the beginning of an unexpected and revealing turn of events that would change everything.

A senior woman texting | Source: Pexels

A senior woman texting | Source: Pexels

“Congratulations, honey! I’m so happy for you!” my mom’s voice was filled with joy.

“Thanks, Mom! But how did you find out so quickly?” I asked, puzzled.

“Micah just posted it on Facebook! The yellow diamond looks so unusual,” she said.

“Yellow??” I replied, my confusion growing.

A woman holding a bouquet and wearing a diamond ring | Source: Pexels

A woman holding a bouquet and wearing a diamond ring | Source: Pexels

I hurried to my laptop and navigated to Micah’s Facebook page. I scrolled through her feed and saw a picture of her hand adorned with a ring that looked nothing like the one I had given her. Instead of the modest diamond ring I had chosen, there was a flashy yellow diamond ring in the photo.

A yellow gold diamond ring | Source: Pexels

A yellow gold diamond ring | Source: Pexels

It was clear that she wanted to showcase something more extravagant than what I had offered. My heart sank as I realized she had chosen to post a fake ring instead of proudly showing the one I gave her.

An upset man with his head in his hands | Source: Pexels

An upset man with his head in his hands | Source: Pexels

I felt a mix of betrayal and sadness, questioning her true feelings about our engagement. I wondered how many other things she had been dishonest about, and whether our entire relationship was built on lies.

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I needed answers right away, so I confronted Micah.

“Why did you post a different ring on Facebook?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Micah looked at me, clearly uncomfortable. “You really expected me to show off that cheap ring? I thought you’d get me something nicer. I’m kinda embarrassed by it. But you don’t want me to feel bad, right?”

An upset woman gesturing with open palms | Source: Pexels

An upset woman gesturing with open palms | Source: Pexels

I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. This wasn’t the Micah I thought I knew. We had always been honest with each other, or so I believed. Her words stung, revealing a side of her I hadn’t seen before. I felt a growing sense of disappointment as I realized how much she valued material appearances over our relationship.

An upset man with his head in his hands | Source: Pexels

An upset man with his head in his hands | Source: Pexels

I remembered the many conversations we’d had about values and how we both claimed to prioritize honesty and simplicity over material things. Now, I saw that her words were empty, and it hurt deeply.

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

“Of course, I don’t want you to feel bad. But there’s more to this than you realize,” I said, hinting at what I knew.

Micah’s confusion was evident. “What do you mean?” she asked, a frown forming on her face.

A confused woman shrugging | Source: Pexels

A confused woman shrugging | Source: Pexels

I looked at her, my expression serious. “Two weeks before our proposal, I got a call from your ex. He told me something interesting about you. He mentioned how he proposed to you with a ring, and you called it cheap and posted a fake one instead. I personally chose this ring for you.”

Micah’s eyes widened as I revealed the real ring. “Oh honey, it’s so beautiful! It’s exactly what I wanted. Thank you!”

An excited, smiling woman holding her face | Source: Pexels

An excited, smiling woman holding her face | Source: Pexels

I could see the excitement in her eyes, but it only deepened my resolve. “You don’t understand. I bought this ring for you and would have given it to you if you had passed the test. But, as we all saw, you failed.”

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

A couple arguing | Source: Pexels

I remembered my conversation with her ex, how he described the heartbreak he felt when she dismissed his sincere gesture for not being flashy enough. His words echoed in my mind, reinforcing my decision to test her.

A heartbroken man sitting back to back with a woman | Source: Pexels

A heartbroken man sitting back to back with a woman | Source: Pexels

Her tears flowed as she continued to plead, “Please, I can explain! I was just embarrassed. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Micah’s face went pale, and she started to panic. “You can’t be serious! This is so unfair! How could you set me up like this? I thought you loved me!” she cried, her voice rising.

A woman crying and wiping her nose | Source: Pexels

A woman crying and wiping her nose | Source: Pexels

I remained calm, watching her reaction. “I did love you, but I can’t be with someone who values material things over honesty and respect. This was a test to see if you had changed, and clearly, you haven’t.”

Her tears flowed as she continued to plead, “Please, I can explain! I was just embarrassed. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

But I was resolute. “Actions speak louder than words, Micah. I need someone who values me for who I am, not for the price tag of a ring.”

A man showing his palm, indicating "stop" | Source: Pexels

A man showing his palm, indicating “stop” | Source: Pexels

Ignoring her desperate attempts to explain, I packed my things and left, feeling a mix of sadness and relief. I knew it was the right decision, but it still hurt to walk away from someone I had once loved deeply.

A man crying while sitting on a sofa | Source: Pexels

A man crying while sitting on a sofa | Source: Pexels

As I packed my belongings, Micah continued to plead, “We can work this out, please! I just wanted something to show off to my friends. It didn’t mean I don’t love you.”

A woman leaning on a man as she cries | Source: Pexels

A woman leaning on a man as she cries | Source: Pexels

I paused for a moment, considering her words. “It’s not about the ring, Micah. It’s about trust and honesty. If you can’t be proud of what we have without needing to impress others, then what do we really have?” With that, I walked out the door, feeling a heavy weight lift off my shoulders.

A man packing moving boxes into a car | Source: Pexels

A man packing moving boxes into a car | Source: Pexels

As I walked out of the door, I felt a strange sense of relief. Later, I decided to reach out to her ex-fiancé to express my gratitude.

“Thank you for telling me about her true colors. You saved me from making a huge mistake,” I told him.

He sounded genuinely relieved as well. “I’m glad my experience could help someone else. It’s tough, but better to know now than later.”

A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

A man talking on the phone | Source: Pexels

Reflecting on everything that happened, I realized how much I had been willing to overlook in the name of love. I learned a valuable lesson about trust and the importance of true character.

A disappointed man with his hand on his head | Source: Pexels

A disappointed man with his hand on his head | Source: Pexels

This experience opened my eyes to what really matters in a relationship. Although it was painful to end things with Micah, I knew it was the right decision for my future happiness. Moving on, I was determined to find someone who would value me for who I am, not for what I could buy.

A confident man listening to music | Source: Pexels

A confident man listening to music | Source: Pexels

Reflecting on everything that happened, I learned a valuable lesson about trust and the importance of true character. I realized that honesty and genuine love are worth more than any material possession.

Scrabble tiles spelling out "Love Never Fails" | Source: Pexels

Scrabble tiles spelling out “Love Never Fails” | Source: Pexels

Moving on, I was determined to find someone who would value me for who I am, not for what I could buy. I started to focus more on self-growth and understanding what I truly wanted in a partner.

A man kissing a woman on the cheek | Source: Pexels

A man kissing a woman on the cheek | Source: Pexels

In the next few weeks, I leaned on friends and family, seeking their support and wisdom. I knew that I couldn’t overcome this alone and having their support was invaluable to me.

Three men chatting | Source: Pexels

Three men chatting | Source: Pexels

Now, I know the type of girl that I want and how to spot the red flags at the beginning of a relationship. I’m so grateful I didn’t marry the wrong person.

I Became a Burden to My Father after I Lost the Ability to Walk – Story of the Day

I Became a Burden to My Father after I Lost the Ability to Walk – Story of the Day
I was paralyzed and trapped in a wheelchair in an accident, and my father refused to be burdened with me. But then he gets taught an important lesson.

I was 19 when I was run over by a car on my way to work. For me, it was the end of the world: a screech of tires, darkness, and pain. And when I woke up, I heard the voices say I’d never walk again.

I kept asking for my father, but he only showed up three days later, looking the worse for the wear and I knew he’d been on a bender while I’d lain there fighting for my life.

She was injured in a horrible accident | Source: Shutterstock.com

She was injured in a horrible accident | Source: Shutterstock.com

My mother died when I was 12, a victim of breast cancer. I remember her as a sweet, weary woman, always cringing from my father’s cruel words, working to keep food on the table while he drank his paycheck away.

As soon as I turned 14, he ordered me to find a part-time job to help with the bills, and when I was 16, I dropped out of school and started working full time to support myself — and him.

But when my father finally arrived at the hospital to visit me, there was neither compassion nor gratitude in his eyes. The doctor explained that although my spine was not severed there had been severe bruising and compression.

I might — by a long shot — recover my ability to walk, but most likely, I would be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life. And that was when my father walked away. He said to the doctor, “She’s over 18, isn’t she? She’s an adult, right? So she’s not my responsibility anymore. You take her.”

My father was an alcoholic | Source: Unsplash

My father was an alcoholic | Source: Unsplash

I remember my doctor’s horrified expression and my father’s gaze sweeping over my limp legs. “Useless! Useless like your mother!”

Those were the last words I’d hear from him for the next six years. A little while later I was transferred to a recovery center where I was lucky enough to be assigned to a therapist named Carol Hanson.

Family is built on love, not a biological bond, or shared DNA.

She was an older, motherly woman who immediately took me under her wing. Carol was as loving as she was demanding, and she was very demanding. Over the next year, she pushed me towards a recovery I’d never dreamed possible.

The day I stood on my own two feet and took my first step, I cried like a baby, and so did Carol. It was only the beginning, and the next few months I worked even harder, but finally was pronounced healthy.

I woke to discover I was paralyzed | Source: Unsplash

I woke to discover I was paralyzed | Source: Unsplash

It was a bittersweet moment for me. I was healed from my injury and I was walking again, but I was terrified. I had nowhere to go, no family. I was all alone in the world.

Carol walked in and found me crying. She sat beside me on the bed and put her arms around me. “Jenny,” she said to me, “it’s all right to be scared. You’re starting your life again.”

“I have no one, and nowhere to go,” I whispered, remembering other patients leaving surrounded by loving family, “I’m alone.”

“No you’re not,” Carol said firmly, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Would you like to move in with me? Just until you get your life together again…”

I was stuck in a wheelchair | Source: Unsplash

I was stuck in a wheelchair | Source: Unsplash

So I did, and it was lovely. Carol and I got on beautifully, and she gave me my own room, a pretty room, the prettiest I’d ever seen. “It was my daughter’s,” Carol explained with tears in her eyes. “I lost her like you lost your mother.”

I started googling for jobs the next day on Carol’s computer, but when I came down to breakfast there were some informative flyers on the table from the local high school announcing night classes for adults wanting to complete their secondary education.

“I think,” said Carol firmly, “that you need to go back to school so you can go back to college.”

My mouth dropped open. “College? I can’t afford college!” I gasped. “Carol, I don’t have a cent to my name and no way to support myself if I don’t get a job, and quickly.”

The physiotherapist helped me heal | Source: Pexels

The physiotherapist helped me heal | Source: Pexels

Carol shook her head: “No, Jenny, you can’t afford NOT to go to college. Listen, I will lend you the money, and when you graduate, you pay me back — just like a student loan with a bank.”

Anyway, she talked me into it, and I quickly completed the high school certification I needed and applied to the local college. I’ll admit Carol’s example inspired me to become a nurse, and four years later, I graduated summa cum laude.

I started working at a local hospital and ended up specializing in neo-natal care. One day, a TV crew came in to do a news story on a set of identical triplets and ended up interviewing me.

For a while, I was a bit of a celebrity, but the attention brought me an unwanted visitor. The doorbell rang and when I opened it, I was stunned to see my father standing there.

I became a nurse | Source: Pixabay

I became a nurse | Source: Pixabay

He looked terrible, like a bum, and he reeked of alcohol and sweat. “Jenny, my sweet baby girl!” he cried, reaching out his hands. “I’ve finally found you again.”

“Found me again?” I asked sharply, “You abandoned me in the hospital because I was useless, remember, like my mother?”

He squeezed out a few tears. “Oh my baby,” he sobbed. “Forgive me, I was frightened and in shock… You won’t turn your dad away now, would you? I haven’t been well…”

“You look fine to me,” I told him coldly, but my trained eye had already noted the yellow tinge to his skin and eyes. He had some kind of liver disorder, probably due to his drinking.

An unexpected visitor | Source: Pixabay

An unexpected visitor | Source: Pixabay

He shuffled forward. “I’m sick, Jenny, daddy really needs you…And…” he licked his lips thirstily. “And I’m broke, baby, no money for food…You’re not going to let your daddy go hungry, are you?”

“Like you left me to my fate? Helpless in a wheelchair? Guess what ‘DADDY,’ I am. Get out.” I slammed the door in his face and walked back into the lounge.

Carol looked up at me and smiled. “Who was that, Jenny?”

“Oh, just some man selling something!” I went to the sofa, sat down beside Carol, and hugged her fiercely. Carol hugged me back.

Carol adopted me | Source: Pexels

Carol adopted me | Source: Pexels

“Jenny,” she said, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. Would you allow me to adopt you? Become your mother? Because in my heart you already are my daughter.”

I started crying and I just couldn’t stop. I had been cursed with a terrible childhood, and now as an adult, I had been lucky enough to find a loving home and a parent who cherished me.

What can we learn from this story?

1. Family is built on love, not a biological bond, or shared DNA.

2. What you give is what you get, as Jenny’s father discovered.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a beautiful socialite who humiliates an old friend and ends up regretting it.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story but written by a professional writer. All names have been changed to protect identities and ensure privacy. Share your story with us, maybe it will change someone’s life.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*