As Diane runs around doing last-minute errands for her daughter Marissa’s wedding, she comes across her soon-to-be son-in-law—with another woman! Begrudgingly, she tells Marissa and then comes up with a plan to teach Stefan a lesson…
As I bustled through the busy streets, juggling errands for my daughter Marissa’s wedding, I couldn’t help but feel a nagging sense of unease.
An older woman holding shopping bags | Source: Midjourney
Call it mother’s intuition or something like that, but there was just something about Stefan, my daughter’s fiancé, that had never quite sat right with me.
He always seemed a bit too smooth, a bit too charming, like someone who was used to getting what he wanted without much effort.
Marissa, on the other hand, had worked through issues with her self-esteem and self-confidence, spending hours at the gym and the hair salon. She worked hard on herself, to get what she felt she deserved.
A young woman at the gym | Source: Midjourney
“I’m telling you, Brian,” I told my husband one day. “Our daughter is too good for this man.”
“I agree, she’s our little girl. But at the same time, there’s nothing we can do.”
He was right, of course. Marissa adored Stefan, and I had tried to keep my reservations to myself, not wanting to spoil her happiness.
A couple sitting and staring at each other | Source: Midjourney
But then, I saw Stefan’s true colors in the most unexpected way.
It was the day before the wedding, and I was exhausted from a whirlwind of preparations. I had insisted that my daughter spend the day at a spa, getting a full-on pamper session, while I got my nails done, picked up both our dresses, and finalized the decorations.
A woman at a spa | Source: Midjourney
“It’s all set, Diane,” Tracy, the wedding planner, told me at her office. “I just need you to choose between the two backup flower options. But don’t worry, we’re back on track. Go ahead and rest. The mother of the bride needs to be just as refreshed as the bride.”
“I’m definitely going to do that,” I reassured her. “I’m just going to grab a coffee and then head straight home for a bubble bath and a head massage from my husband.”
A smiling woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
“Get some carbs, too,” Tracy laughed as I walked out.
So, I did just that. I decided to take a break and grab a coffee at a cute little café across the road from Tracy’s office. As I entered, I was greeted by the comforting aroma of fresh pastries and coffee.
Coffee and croissants on a table | Source: Midjourney
“Just what I needed,” I muttered to myself.
But then, my heart nearly stopped.
There, in a corner of the café was Stefan. And he wasn’t alone. A young woman was there with him, laughing and touching his arm, their heads close together.
A couple sitting in a café together | Source: Midjourney
Then, right in front of the bustling café, they kissed. It was a tender, intimate kiss, the kind that spoke of familiarity and affection.
To the rest of the world, they looked like a cute little couple. But to me? This was the ultimate betrayal to my daughter.
I stood there, stunned, unable to process what I was seeing. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo.
A woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney
Thankfully, the photo was safely in my gallery when Stefan looked up. Our eyes met for a brief, horrifying moment. He quickly pulled away from the woman, but it was too late.
The damage was done. My eyes had seen the truth.
A close-up of a man’s eyes | Source: Midjourney
“Diane?” Stefan called.
I just shook my head and hurried out of the café, my mind and heart racing.
How could he do this to Marissa? The woman who loved him to her core and who would move heaven and earth for him! And on the eve of their wedding, no less?
An upset woman touching her face | Source: Midjourney
I knew I had to tell her, but how could I break her heart like this?
As I drove home, my anger simmered. Stefan needed to learn a lesson.
I dialed Brian’s number.
A woman driving | Source: Midjourney
“Hi, honey,” Brian answered. “I’ll be home soon, I promise. I just need to pick up some Thai food for Marissa. She said she wanted to have our favorite family meal tonight.”
“We need to talk,” I said, cutting him off.
I quickly told Brian everything as I drove closer to our house.
A man looking at his phone | Source: Midjourney
When I got home, I found Marissa in her room, surrounded by her wedding jewelry. Her face lit up when she saw me, but the look on my face must have given away that something was wrong.
“Mom, what happened?” she asked, concern taking over her beautiful features. “Is everything okay?”
I sat down next to her, taking a deep breath.
A young woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney
“Marissa, I need to show you something,” I said, pulling out my phone. I showed her the photo of Stefan with the other woman.
Marissa stared at the screen, her face paling.
“No, this can’t be real,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.
An upset young woman | Source: Midjourney
I put my arm around her, holding her as she sobbed.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I said. “I wish it wasn’t true.”
Through her tears, Marissa looked at me, anger and betrayal flashing in her eyes.
A mother comforting her daughter | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, I can’t marry him. I just can’t. I won’t. I have to call off the wedding.”
I nodded. I couldn’t blame her at all. She was devastated. The man she adored had been cheating on her.
But then an idea struck me. There was a way to make Stefan face the consequences of his actions in a way he wouldn’t forget.
A determined older woman | Source: Midjourney
“Darling, what if we turn the tables on him? Make sure he knows exactly what he’s losing?” I asked.
She looked at me, confusion mingling with her tears.
“What do you mean, Mom?” she asked.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
I explained my plan, and slowly, a determined look replaced the hurt on her face. She agreed, and we set it in motion.
We spent the rest of the evening in near silence, eating the Thai food that Brian had brought home.
A close-up of a plate of food | Source: Midjourney
The next morning, Marissa and her best friend Leah headed to the resort where she and Stefan were supposed to spend their honeymoon.
The reservation was in Marissa’s name because Brian and I had gifted the couple their honeymoon, so there was no issue with her using it.
A beautiful resort | Source: Midjourney
As for Brian and me, we went to the wedding venue, where guests were already gathering, helping themselves to drinks and canapés. They were blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding behind the scenes.
Stefan spotted me as soon as I arrived. He rushed over, looking anxious.
“Where’s Marissa?” he asked me, trying to keep his voice calm.
Guests mingling at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
I smiled, keeping my tone light. It was almost as if I hadn’t caught him cheating on my daughter just the day before.
“Oh, she’ll be done soon; she had a mishap with her hair stylist.”
He frowned but nodded, trying to mask his discomfort.
A close-up of a groom | Source: Midjourney
As the minutes ticked by and the wedding band began to play, the tension grew. Finally, with all the guests present, I took the stage.
Holding the microphone, I called for everyone’s attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being here today. We have a slight change in plans,” I began.
An older woman standing with a microphone | Source: Midjourney
There were a few gasps in the crowd, but I continued.
“My daughter isn’t here right now. She’s on her way to the resort where she and Stefan were supposed to spend their honeymoon.”
A murmur of confusion spread through the crowd. Stefan shifted uncomfortably.
Shocked guests at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
“But Marissa did want me to show you something very important.”
With that, I clicked a remote, and the photo of Stefan kissing the other woman appeared on the screen behind me. That, in itself, tugged at my heart because Marissa had wanted photos of her and Stefan to be playing in the background during the ceremony.
Now, the screen was used to show his infidelity.
A couple kissing | Source: Midjourney
Gasps filled the room. Stefan’s parents stood up, their faces a mixture of shock and fury. The murmurs turned into an uproar as people processed what they were seeing.
“Marissa isn’t late,” I said to Stefan simply. “She deserves so much better than this, and now, everyone knows the truth.”
Stefan’s parents approached me, anger across their faces.
An upset older couple | Source: Midjourney
“How could you do this?” his mother hissed. “We paid for this wedding!”
I met her gaze, unflinching.
“Your son did this. Not me. He betrayed Marissa, and she has every right to walk away.”
An embarrassed older couple | Source: Midjourney
Everything was chaotic after that. Guests were whispering, and some were even leaving. Stefan looked defeated, slumped in a chair, while his parents tried to salvage what they could of the situation.
I called Marissa to check in as Brian spoke to some of our family and friends.
“Mom, I made the right decision,” she said boldly. “I’ve been thinking, and I know it now.”
A smiling young woman | Source: Midjourney
“You did, sweetheart,” I replied. “And now, you can move on without looking back.”
After that, Brian and I helped ourselves to the wedding buffet before heading home.
A wedding buffet | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you.
My Best Friend Gave Me the Wrong Dress Code for Her Wedding — I Decided to Outplay Her Smartly
When Emily’s friend, Elle, gets engaged to her boyfriend, Brian, the supportive bestie is over the moon. Emily does everything she can to help Elle plan her dream wedding. But then Elle starts acting secretive and gives Emily a wedding invite with the incorrect dress code. Thankfully, a mutual colleague gives Emily the correct details, allowing her to show up to the wedding to teach Elle a lesson.
“I’m engaged, Em!” Elle said, rushing through my door while I was sitting on the couch and reading a book.
A woman reading on a couch | Source: Unsplash
“What?” I exclaimed, standing up to hug her tightly. “I’m so happy for you, my girl!”
Elle sat on the couch and showed me her hand.
“Look at this rock!” she said.
A close-up of an engagement ring | Source: Unsplash
Of course, I was over the moon for her. We’d been through so much together, and now it was her turn to walk down the aisle.
For my wedding, a few years ago, Elle had been right by my side. She helped me plan every little detail, from the font on my wedding invitations to the menu selections.
“It’s more like you and Elle are getting married,” my husband, Grant, laughed one evening when I told him everything that Elle and I had planned.
A laughing man | Source: Unsplash
“Well, she’s been around longer than you,” I replied, showing him the mock-up for our wedding invitations.
And it was true, Elle and I had been friends since our childhood, having lived on the same street and gone to the same kindergarten together.
We shared every major milestone, from awkward teenage years to college graduation, together. We even ended up working at the same company, making sure to have lunch and tea breaks together every day.
So, naturally, I expected her to be just as involved in her wedding planning as she was in mine.
“Brian and I don’t want to be engaged for too long,” she said one day at the office while we were having tea and pastries.
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.
My DIL Threw Away My Thanksgiving Dishes and Replaced Them with Her Own — My Granddaughter Got Revenge for Me
When my daughter-in-law threw out the Thanksgiving meal I spent hours cooking, I was heartbroken. But my 14-year-old granddaughter wasn’t about to let it slide.
I’ve always loved Thanksgiving. There’s something magical about gathering family around a table filled with food you’ve poured your heart into.
A Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Pexels
My turkey recipe? Passed down from my mother. My pecan pie? Perfected after years of trial and error. The mashed potatoes, the stuffing, the cranberry sauce, they’re all a part of me.
But hosting isn’t easy. My knees ache by the time I’m done peeling, chopping, and roasting. Still, I tell myself it’s worth it. My granddaughter, Chloe, always says, “Grandma, your food tastes like love.” Those words keep me going.
A teenage girl | Source: Pexels
This year, though, there was a wrinkle in my plans. My daughter-in-law, Candace, has never cared much for me or my cooking. She’s all about modern twists and store-bought shortcuts. We’ve never said anything outright, but I know how she feels. And she knows how I feel.
At least my son, Brad, and Chloe adore my food. Chloe even asked me last week if I could teach her my pie crust recipe. I told her I would when she was ready to commit to flour-covered counters and sticky fingers. She grinned and said, “Deal.”
Grandmother cooking with her daughter | Source: Pexels
By 3 p.m., I was bone-tired but proud. The turkey was golden, the pie was cooling, and the sides were perfectly seasoned. I cooked so much that it didn’t fit into my kitchen fridge, so I had to use the backup one in the garage.
I had just started setting the table when I heard the front door.
“Mom! We’re here!” Brad’s cheerful voice called out.
I blinked at the clock. “You’re early!”
A woman welcoming her son | Source: Pexels
Candace breezed into the kitchen, her blond hair perfectly styled, wearing heels no sane person would cook in. “Hi, Margaret,” she said, barely looking at me. “We thought we’d come early and help.”
“Help?” I repeated, stunned. Candace had never once offered to help with a meal in the 10 years she’d been part of this family.
An elderly woman and her daughter-in-law | Source: Pexels
Chloe bounded in behind her, a bright smile lighting up her face. “Hi, Grandma!” She hugged me tight, and I hugged her back, grateful for the warmth.
Candace clapped her hands. “So, what can I do?”
I hesitated. Was this some kind of olive branch? Or was she up to something? Brad smiled. “C’mon, Mom. Let her pitch in. You’ve done so much already.”
A thoughtful elderly woman | Source: Freepik
“Alright,” I said slowly. “Candace, you can watch the turkey. I’ll go freshen up for a minute.”
Upstairs, I meant to splash water on my face, maybe sit for a moment to rest my legs. But when I sat down, exhaustion took over. I must’ve dozed off because when I opened my eyes, the house was buzzing with voices.
A sleeping elderly woman | Source: Pexels
“Oh no,” I muttered, jumping up. I hurried downstairs and froze at the dining room doorway.
The table was set, and everyone was already eating. Candace sat at the head of the table, smiling as guests complimented her food.
“This turkey looks incredible,” Aunt Linda said, cutting into her slice.
Cutting turkey | Source: Pexels
“I worked so hard on it,” Candace said, tossing her hair.
I blinked. Worked hard? None of this looked like my food. My mashed potatoes were creamy, not clumpy. My stuffing had sage, not whatever green flecks this was. Where was my pecan pie?
Feeling a growing knot in my stomach, I slipped into the kitchen. The smell hit me first—sweet potatoes, turkey drippings, and… the trash?
A suspicious woman | Source: Pexels
I opened the trash can, and my heart dropped. There were my dishes, sealed containers and all, tossed in with coffee grounds and napkins.
My hands trembled. “What—”
“Grandma?” Chloe’s voice came from behind me. I turned, my eyes filling with tears of anger and hurt. “Did you see—”
Sweet potatoes in a trash bin | Source: Midjourney
“I saw,” she whispered, stepping closer. She looked around to make sure no one else was nearby. “She threw it all out when you were upstairs.”
My voice cracked. “Why would she—”
“Don’t worry,” Chloe said, taking my hand. Her eyes gleamed with something I couldn’t quite place. “I took care of it.”
A smiling teenage girl | Source: Pexels
“What do you mean?”
Chloe smiled. “Just trust me, Grandma. Come on, let’s go back to the table and watch the show.”
And with that, she pulled me toward the dining room, leaving the kitchen and my ruined dishes behind.
The dining room fell quiet. Forks hovered mid-air, and puzzled looks passed between the guests.
A photo of a Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Pexels
“This… uh…” Brad said, his brow furrowed as he chewed slowly. “It’s a little… intense?”
“I think I got a bad piece,” Aunt Linda murmured, reaching for her water glass. “Is it me, or is the stuffing… salty?”
“Salty?” Uncle Jim echoed, his face twisting into a grimace. “This isn’t salty; it’s seawater! What’s in this?”
A frowning elderly man | Source: Midjourney
Candace’s confident smile wavered. “Oh no,” she said, her voice a little too loud. “Really? It’s salty? I must’ve, uh, overdone the seasoning.” Her laugh sounded forced, and her cheeks turned pink. “I was rushing, you know, trying to get everything perfect.”
Chloe nudged me under the table. “Go ahead,” she whispered, her voice low and mischievous.
“What?” I whispered back.
A mischievous girl | Source: Midjourney
“Try it,” she said, barely holding back her grin.
I glanced at my plate. With growing suspicion, I cut a small piece of turkey and placed it in my mouth.
Immediately, my eyes widened. The turkey was so salty, it made my tongue burn. The stuffing wasn’t any better—it was inedible. I quickly reached for my water, trying not to laugh.
Shocked elderly woman | Source: Freepik
“Well,” I said, dabbing at my mouth, “that’s… something.”
Chloe giggled quietly, and I caught her wink.
The rest of the table wasn’t as composed. Aunt Linda set her fork down with a clink. “I can’t eat this,” she said gently, trying to smile but failing.
Uncle Jim wasn’t so diplomatic. “Candace, this stuffing could preserve a mummy.”
An angry elderly man | Source: Midjourney
Candace’s smile grew tighter. “Oh, I—I don’t know what happened,” she said, her voice pitching higher. “Maybe the turkey brine was too strong? Or the seasoning mix was bad?”
That was my cue. I stood, clearing my throat. “Well,” I said, raising my glass of sparkling cider, “let’s not worry too much about one little mishap. Cooking for a big crowd is no small task, after all.”
A woman toasting at a dinner | Source: Pexels
Brad smiled, relieved. “That’s true, Mom. Let’s toast to Candace for all her hard work today.”
“Oh, absolutely,” I added with a sweet smile. “Candace really outdid herself. And since everyone’s still hungry, I have a little surprise of my own.”
Candace’s smile froze. “You do?” she asked, her voice higher than usual.
A woman with a stiff smile | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, yes,” I said, setting my glass down. “I had a feeling we might need a backup plan, so I prepared some extra dishes. They’re out in the garage fridge. Brad, could you give me a hand?”
The room buzzed with murmurs as Brad followed me out. I opened the fridge, revealing my carefully prepared Thanksgiving dishes still in their containers, untouched.
“Wow, Mom,” Brad said, lifting the heavy pan of turkey. “You really went all out this year.”
A woman setting turkey on the table | Source: Pexels
“Just wanted to be prepared,” I said lightly, though my heart was racing with satisfaction.
We returned to the dining room, and I began setting my dishes on the table: the golden turkey, fluffy mashed potatoes, savory stuffing, and my famous pecan pie. The guests’ faces lit up.
“This looks amazing,” Aunt Linda said, her hands clasped in delight.
A smiling woman at a Thanksgiving dinner | Source: Pexels
“Finally, real food!” Uncle Jim said with a chuckle, earning a few laughs.
Candace sat stiffly, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Oh, you didn’t have to go to all that trouble, Margaret,” she said, her voice tight.
Later, after the guests had gone, I stood in the kitchen, wrapping leftovers in foil. Candace walked in, her heels clicking softly against the tile.
An ashamed woman | Source: Freepik
She cleared her throat. “Margaret, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry about earlier. I don’t know what came over me when I threw your food out. I just thought, you know, it might be too… old-fashioned.”
I looked at her for a moment, taking in her discomfort. “I appreciate the apology, Candace,” I said finally, keeping my tone even. “I know you were trying to help in your own way.”
She nodded, but I could tell she wasn’t used to admitting fault.
A smiling woman talking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Pexels
As she left the kitchen, Chloe appeared, her hands full of pie plates. “Grandma, your food saved Thanksgiving,” she said, grinning.
I laughed softly. “I think you had a hand in that, sweetheart.”
“Mom’s never going to forget this,” she said, her grin widening.
A smiling girl at a dinner | Source: Midjourney
“Well,” I said, pulling her into a hug, “the important thing is that you stood up for me. That means more to me than you’ll ever know.”
Chloe beamed. “Anything for you, Grandma.”
As I turned out the kitchen lights that night, I felt a deep sense of gratitude. The day hadn’t gone as planned, but it had reminded me of something far more precious than tradition or perfect meals: the fierce, loyal love of my granddaughter.
An elderly woman hugging her granddaughter | 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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