What was supposed to be the happiest day of my life turned into one that I’ll never forget. I went from being the bride-to-be to the uninvited wedding guest who crashed the event because she wanted revenge. But karma arrived at the venue before I could.
He made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
When I met Ethan two years ago, I was convinced I had found my forever. He was charming, witty, and knew exactly what to say to make me feel special! Seven months ago, when he proposed, I felt like the happiest woman alive—but I didn’t know I’d never become his wife.
A man proposing | Source: Midjourney
Another thing I came to love about Ethan was how hands-on he was. We planned our wedding together, down to every last detail! From the elegant banquet hall venue with a garden; to the cascading white roses and other flowers.
We also went to cake tastings to find the perfect one and even chose the song we’d dance to as husband and wife! Every moment felt perfect, like a fairytale—until it all came crashing down a month before the wedding.
A happy couple | Source: Midjourney
It happened on an ordinary Wednesday. I had left work early to surprise Ethan with his favorite takeout. It was something small, just a gesture to show how much I appreciated him.
I let myself into his apartment, already picturing the delighted look on his face when he saw me standing there with a bag full of burgers and fries.
But the moment I stepped inside, I knew something was wrong.
A suspicious woman arrives with takeout | Source: Midjourney
A woman’s coat was draped over the back of a chair. At first, I thought maybe he had a guest—a relative or a coworker. But when I heard soft laughter coming from the bedroom, my stomach twisted into a knot.
I approached the door, every step heavier than the last. My hands trembled as I reached for the doorknob and slowly pushed it open.
There, tangled in the sheets, was Ethan. With my older sister, Lauren!
A couple in bed | Source: Pexels
Time stopped as my mind struggled to process what I was seeing. My sister—my own flesh and blood—was in bed with the man I was supposed to marry in a month!
Lauren gasped and scrambled to cover herself, but Ethan? He just sat up, completely unbothered.
“Wait,” I choked out. “What the hell is this?”
My so-called groom sighed, running a hand through his hair like I was the one being unreasonable. “You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”
An unapologetic man | Source: Midjourney
“Find out what?!” I asked, my voice shaking. “That you’re a cheating liar?! That my own sister betrayed me?!”
Lauren’s face was pale, but she didn’t say a word. She just clutched the sheets to her chest, avoiding my gaze.
Ethan, however, dared to look me in the eye and say, “I love her.”
The words knocked the air out of my lungs. I wanted him to deny it, to say it was a mistake, but instead, he looked relieved—like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. I couldn’t believe this was the same sweet man I had wanted to walk down the aisle with after he became my husband!
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
It was like he was two different people—the man I had gotten to know and this guy in bed with my sister.
“You love her?!” My voice cracked. “Then why the hell did you propose to me?!”
He exhaled like he was explaining something painfully obvious. “I thought I loved you. But things changed. Lauren and I… we’ve been seeing each other for a while.”
For a while…
My stomach turned. This wasn’t just a one-time thing. They had been sneaking around behind my back for who knows how long!
An angry and hurt woman | Source: Midjourney
I turned to Lauren. “How could you do this to me?!”
She finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, sis.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “Didn’t mean for it to happen?! You didn’t trip and fall into his bed, Lauren!”
Ethan stood up, wrapping an arm around her. “Look, I get that you’re hurt, but we didn’t want to keep lying to you.”
My hands clenched into fists. “Oh, you didn’t want to keep lying? That’s rich!”
I stormed out, shaking with rage and heartbreak. I thought that was the worst of it. I was wrong.
A heartbroken woman leaving | Source: Midjourney
A few days later, my parents called me over to talk. I had been bawling my eyes out since I made the discovery. My friends and bridesmaids came to comfort me, but I hadn’t heard from my parents until then.
I foolishly believed they would be on my side for a change. Instead, I walked into an ambush.
“We understand you’re upset,” my mom said, her tone patronizing.
“But Ethan and Lauren are in love,” my dad added. “You wouldn’t want to stand in the way of true love, would you?”
A man talking | Source: Midjourney
I stared at them in disbelief. “True love? Are you serious?!”
Mom sighed. “Sweetheart, you’ve always been independent. You’ll move on. But Lauren… she needs stability. And Ethan makes her happy.”
I felt like I was drowning. “So, what? Are you just replacing me with her?! Pretending like none of this even happened?!”
“We’re not taking sides,” my dad said, though his tone made it clear they already had.
Then, the final blow.
“They’re still having the wedding,” my mom said. “And, well, Lauren will be the bride.”
A woman talking | Source: Midjourney
I blinked. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s already paid for,” she said as if that made any of this acceptable. “It would be a shame to let all those plans go to waste.”
I stood up so fast the chair screeched against the floor. “Unbelievable.”
“We’d like you to be happy for them,” Dad said.
I laughed bitterly. “You actually expect me to celebrate this?!”
An upset woman laughing | Source: Midjourney
Lauren had taken my fiancé, and my parents had taken her side—like they always did. They had always treated her better, and now they wanted me to smile as they supported her relationship with my fiancé?!
I walked out of that house and didn’t look back.
An upset woman leaving | Source: Midjourney
When the wedding came, I obviously wasn’t invited. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be there. I decided not to cause a scene. I wasn’t going to scream or throw cake. I just wanted to sneak in and wait until the officiant asked for objections.
Then, I’d get up and tell their guests and our mutual friends that the man Lauren was marrying had been my fiancé first! I planned to embarrass them and make their “special day” the worst one ever!
But when I arrived at the banquet hall, things were… off.
A woman arrives at a wedding | Source: Midjourney
There was no music. No laughter. Just silence, thick with tension. Guests stood frozen in place, and at the front of the room, uniformed officers swarmed.
“What’s going on?” I asked the nearest cop.
Before he could answer, I spotted my sister—still in her wedding dress, tears streaming down her face. My parents sat at a table, looking utterly shell-shocked.
But Ethan was nowhere to be seen.
A bride crying | Source: Midjourney
The cop turned to me. “Are you a guest?”
I hesitated before nodding. “Sort of. I was supposed to be the bride today.”
He sighed. “We came here to arrest the groom, but he wasn’t here. He was caught at the city bus station trying to leave town.”
I blinked. “What?!”
The officer gestured toward a group of detectives speaking to guests. “Turns out, he’s been running a long con. He’s a scam artist. He never planned on marrying anyone.”
I felt my heart race. “What did he do?”
A shocked woman talking to a cop | Source: Midjourney
The cop’s expression darkened. “He’s done this before—to three other women in the city. He took off with all the wedding gifts, the deposits, decorations, and whatever money he could get his hands on. He’s currently on the run.”
“He even lied about having family coming from Europe. He has no family. No guests. Nothing,” the policeman informed me.
Shock rippled through me. My parents were still frozen in disbelief. Lauren—the woman who had betrayed me—was now abandoned at the altar, sobbing while her last-minute bridesmaids comforted her.
A bride being comforted | Source: Midjourney
And for the first time in weeks, I smiled as I stood there, taking in the chaos before me.
Justice had been served!
As the guests started leaving, one of the officers approached me. “Hi, I saw you arrive. I hear Officer James say you dodged a bullet.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. “Yeah. Guess I did.”
He gave me a small smile. “Would you like to grab a coffee sometime? You know, with someone who isn’t a criminal?”
I glanced at his name tag—Officer Matt.
A policeman | Source: Midjourney
For the first time in a while, I felt something other than anger and betrayal. Maybe a fresh start wasn’t such a bad idea.
That was a year ago.
And tomorrow? I’m marrying him!
Life has a funny way of working out.
A happy woman | Source: Midjourney
Sadly, Ethan’s first bride wasn’t the only woman ditched on her wedding day. the bride’s groom fails to arrive on time and instead, she discovers he’s been cheating. The heartbroken woman stands up tall and makes the most of the day.
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 BURIED MY WIFE 20 YEARS AGO — YESTERDAY, SHE LITERALLY SAVED ME FROM A STROKE.
The rain hammered against the windshield, mirroring the storm raging inside me. It had been a year since the accident. A year since my wife, Emily, had vanished without a trace. The car, a mangled wreck, had been discovered at the edge of the Blackwood Forest, a chilling reminder of the day my world shattered.
The police had searched tirelessly, but to no avail. Volunteers combed the forest, their faces etched with sympathy, but their efforts yielded nothing. The prevailing theory, grim as it was, was that wild animals had taken her.
Emily’s mother, a woman of unwavering faith, had insisted on a funeral. “We need closure,” she’d said, her voice thick with grief. And so, we gathered, surrounded by the somber silence of the cemetery, to mourn a life cut tragically short.
But grief, it turned out, was a stubborn beast. It clung to me, a persistent shadow that followed me everywhere. I couldn’t escape the haunting memories – Emily’s laughter, the way she smelled of lavender, the warmth of her hand in mine.
And then, a few days ago, the unthinkable happened. I was at the local cafe, enjoying a much-needed cup of coffee, when a sudden wave of dizziness washed over me. The world tilted, the warm coffee spilling across the table. I slumped to the floor, the taste of bitter coffee and fear filling my mouth.
Panic surged through me as I struggled to breathe. Then, I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Sir, are you alright?” a concerned voice asked.
As I tried to focus, a face swam into view. It was a woman, her eyes wide with concern. “Can you pronounce this word for me?” she asked, her voice clear and calm. “Apple.”
I managed a slurred “Apple.”
“Good. Now, can you lift your right hand?”
I tried, but my arm felt heavy, unresponsive. Fear, cold and clammy, gripped me. What was happening?
Then, as my vision cleared, I saw her. Her face, pale and drawn, framed by a tangled mass of hair. The same captivating blue eyes, the same mischievous glint in their depths. And there it was, unmistakable, the crescent-shaped birthmark on the left side of her forehead.
It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be Emily.
But it was.
She looked at me, a mixture of disbelief and fear in her eyes. “Ronald?” she whispered, her voice hoarse.
The world seemed to tilt on its axis once more. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at her, at the face I thought I had lost forever.
How? How could she be alive? Where had she been all this time?
Questions swirled in my mind, a chaotic whirlwind of disbelief and joy. But one thing was certain: Emily was alive. And after a year of despair, hope had finally returned, brighter than any sunrise. The rain hammered against the windows, mirroring the storm raging inside me. It had been six months since the accident. Six months since my wife, Emily, had vanished without a trace. Her car, mangled and abandoned, had been discovered at the edge of the Blackwood Forest, a place where legends of the supernatural mingled with tales of real danger.
The police had searched tirelessly, their efforts joined by a tireless band of volunteers. But all their efforts yielded nothing. No trace of Emily. Just the mangled car, a chilling testament to the tragedy.
Emily’s mother, a woman of unwavering faith, insisted on a funeral. “We need closure,” she had said, her voice thick with grief. And so, we gathered, a small circle of mourners, to say goodbye to the woman I loved. It was a heartbreaking ceremony, a hollow echo of the life we were supposed to build together.
Life without Emily felt surreal. The house, once filled with her laughter and the clatter of her cooking, was now eerily silent. Every corner whispered her name, every familiar scent a haunting reminder of her absence. I spent my days adrift, haunted by the “what ifs,” the “if onlys.”
Then, came that fateful morning. I was at the local cafe, the rain mirroring the grey haze that had settled over my life. As I reached for my coffee, the world tilted. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I crumpled to the floor, the hot coffee spilling across the table.
Suddenly, a pair of hands gripped my shoulders, steadying me. “Sir, are you alright?” A voice, concerned yet firm. I tried to focus, my vision blurring. Then, I saw her.
Her face, pale and drawn, was inches from mine. And there it was – the unmistakable birthmark on the left side of her forehead, a small crescent moon that I had kissed countless times.
Emily.
My breath hitched. “Emily?” I croaked, my voice hoarse.
Her eyes, wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief, met mine. “John?”
The world seemed to tilt again, this time with a dizzying sense of disbelief. How? How was she alive?
“I… I don’t understand,” I stammered, my voice trembling.
She looked around, her gaze landing on the concerned faces of the cafe patrons. “I… I can’t explain,” she whispered, her voice weak. “I woke up… somewhere. I don’t remember much. I was hurt, disoriented. I… I wandered for days.”
A flood of questions surged through me. Where had she been? What had happened? How had she survived? But before I could ask, she fainted.
As the paramedics rushed her to the hospital, I felt a surge of hope, a flicker of joy that I hadn’t felt in months. Emily was alive. She was here.
The days that followed were a whirlwind of medical tests, cautious questions, and whispered reassurances. Emily slowly regained her strength, her memory returning in fragments. She remembered the accident, the terrifying crash, the darkness that followed. She remembered waking up in a strange place, disoriented and alone, with no memory of how she got there. She had wandered for days, lost and terrified, surviving on berries and rainwater.
The mystery of her disappearance remained unsolved. The police were baffled, the medical professionals amazed. But none of that mattered anymore. All that mattered was that she was alive, that she was back in my arms.
Life after that was a slow, tentative journey back to normalcy. We faced countless questions, whispers, and curious stares. But we faced them together, hand in hand, cherishing every moment. The fear of losing her had cast a long shadow over our lives, but now, we clung to each other, determined to make the most of every precious day.
The accident had changed us, forever altering the course of our lives. But it had also taught us the true meaning of hope, the enduring power of love, and the incredible resilience of the human spirit. And as I looked at Emily, her eyes shining with a newfound appreciation for life, I knew that our love story, though interrupted, was far from over. We would face the future together, stronger than ever before, grateful for the second chance at the life we had almost lost.
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