Staging a fake wedding seemed like the perfect revenge on my cheating ex, but I never expected what happened next. As I walked down the aisle with a hired actor as my groom, little did I know how this elaborate charade would completely change the course of my life.
Jack and I had been together for five years. High school sweethearts. We met in sophomore year when we were paired up for a chemistry project. The irony isn’t lost on me now — our chemistry was undeniable from the start.
Late nights studying turned into stolen kisses in the library stacks. Homecoming dances, prom night, graduation — Jack was by my side through it all.
I thought we were rock solid, destined for forever. We had our whole lives planned out: finish college, get married, buy a house in our hometown, start a family. It was a simple dream, but it was ours. Or so I thought.
Then, six months ago, my world shattered. I found out Jack was cheating on me with Emily, one of my best friends since middle school. The betrayal cut deep on both fronts.
I discovered their affair in the most clichéd way possible — walking in on them at Emily’s apartment when Jack was supposed to be “working late.”
The image of them tangled together in Emily’s bed is seared into my brain. I remember every excruciating detail.
I was devastated and furious. How could they both betray me like that? Jack tried to explain, to apologize, but his words were just noise. Emily cried, saying it “just happened” and she never meant to hurt me. As if that made it better.
After the initial shock and sadness wore off, the real torture began. Jack and Emily started flaunting their relationship all over social media. At first, it was subtle — likes and comments on each other’s posts. Then came the cute couple selfies, shots of romantic date nights and inside jokes in the comments.
How could he move on so quickly while I was still picking up the pieces of my broken heart? I was suffering while Jack was living his best life. Each smile, each loving glance captured on camera felt like a personal attack. Didn’t he feel any guilt? Any remorse for throwing away five years together?
That’s when I hatched my crazy revenge plan: a fake wedding. If Jack wanted to show off his new relationship, I’d show him I could do one better. I’d stage the most picture-perfect wedding and flood social media with photos of my “perfect” new life.
I called my friend Kira, the only one I trusted with this insane scheme. “Hey, you still know that actor guy? Tom, right?”
“Yeah, why?” Kira sounded suspicious.
“I need a favor. A big one.”
I outlined my plan to Kira, expecting her to tell me I was crazy. Instead, after a long pause, she said, “You know what? Let’s do it. Jack deserves to squirm a little.”
Two days later, I was sitting across from Tom in a coffee shop, outlining my ridiculous plan. Tom was everything Jack wasn’t — tall, dark-haired, with an easy smile and a mischievous glint in his eye.
“So let me get this straight,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You want me to pretend to be your groom at a fake wedding?”
I nodded, feeling a bit ridiculous but still determined. “I know it sounds crazy, but after what Jack did… I need this.”
“I’m in,” Tom interrupted, grinning. “Sounds like fun. Plus, it’ll be great practice for my acting reel.”
Over the next few weeks, I threw myself into wedding planning with a fervor that surprised even me. Every decision was made with social media in mind. How would this look in photos? What would make Jack and Emily the most jealous?
I chose a venue that I knew Jack had always loved — a picturesque barn on the outskirts of town. My dress was a designer knock-off, but in photos, it would look like I’d splurged on the real thing. I even went as far as to hire a professional photographer friend to capture every moment of our “special day.”
“You sure about this?” Kira asked as we picked out flowers. “It’s not too late to back out.”
“Absolutely,” I lied, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. Was I taking this too far? But then I’d remember Jack and Emily’s latest couples post — a sunset beach pic with the caption “Never been happier” — and my resolve would harden.
The day of the fake wedding arrived, bringing with it a flurry of activity. Hair, makeup, last-minute decorations — it all felt surreal. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my veil, when Tom knocked on the door.
“Ready to get fake married?” he grinned, looking dashing in a tailored tux.
I took a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be.”
The ceremony was surprisingly convincing. Tom played his part perfectly, his vows so heartfelt I almost believed them myself. As we exchanged rings and sealed our “union” with a kiss, I couldn’t help but think of Jack. This was supposed to be us, once upon a time.
After the ceremony, we posed for countless photos. Tom’s arm around my waist felt oddly comforting. We laughed and joked between shots, our chemistry apparent even through the lens.
“You’re a natural,” I murmured as we smiled for another shot.
“What can I say? I’m a method actor,” he winked, pulling me close for a staged romantic moment.
The reception was a whirlwind of fake toasts, first dances, and cake cutting. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but beneath the act, I felt a genuine lightness I hadn’t experienced in months.
That night, I posted a flurry of wedding photos on social media. “Found my true love,” I captioned one. “New beginnings,” on another. My finger hovered over the post button for a moment before I pressed it decisively. This was it. My grand gesture of moving on.
It didn’t take long for my phone to explode with notifications. Friends congratulating me, family members confused — and then, Jack.
“You couldn’t wait to flaunt your new guy? Pathetic,” his message read.
I smirked, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction. But as I lay in bed that night, doubt crept in. What had I really accomplished? Was this elaborate charade really going to make me feel better?
The next morning, I met Tom for coffee to debrief. As we talked, I found myself opening up about Jack, the betrayal, and how lost I’d felt these past six months. Tom listened with genuine empathy, offering insights I hadn’t considered.
“You know,” he said, stirring his latte thoughtfully, “sometimes the best revenge is just being happy. Really happy, not this fake Instagram version.”
His words struck a chord. We ended up talking for hours, long after our coffee had gone cold. Tom was funny, kind, and surprisingly easy to talk to. As we said goodbye, I found myself wishing our time together wasn’t just an act.
Over the next few weeks, Tom and I kept in touch. What started as casual meetups to maintain our “newlywed” facade for social media turned into real dates. It felt natural, effortless, nothing like the performance we’d put on for my revenge scheme.
We went hiking, tried new restaurants, spent lazy Sundays binge-watching TV shows. I found myself laughing more and thinking about Jack less. The pain was still there, but it was dulled, overshadowed by this new, unexpected connection.
“So,” Tom said one night over dinner, about two months after our “wedding,” “are we going to talk about how our fake relationship turned into a real one?”
I laughed, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “I guess we should, huh?”
We decided to give it a shot, for real this time. But our unconventional start didn’t go unnoticed.
“Are you sure about this?” Kira asked when I told her. “It’s not just part of the act?”
“It’s real,” I assured her. “Unexpected, but real.”
Of course, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. When the truth about our fake wedding came out — as secrets inevitably do — we faced backlash from friends and family who felt deceived. Jack even tried to use it as ammunition, painting me as unstable and manipulative.
But Tom stood by me through it all. We weathered the storm together, emerging stronger on the other side. And slowly, people came around, seeing the genuine happiness we’d found in each other.
As I reflected on everything that happened, I couldn’t help but marvel at the journey. What started as a misguided attempt at revenge led me to true love and personal growth I never expected.
I realized that the best revenge wasn’t about making Jack jealous — it was about finding genuine happiness for myself.
Life has a funny way of working out sometimes. And while I wouldn’t recommend staging a fake wedding as a path to happiness, I can’t regret the choices that led me here — to Ryan, to love, and to a future brighter than I ever imagined.
What would you have done? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about a woman whose best friend refused to believe her husband was cheating on her, so she set up a foolproof trap, unprepared for the explosive consequences.
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’m Not Giving Money to My Late Husband’s Affair Child
The weight of betrayal, combined with the complexities of inheritance and responsibility, can be almost unbearable. This is the case for a woman who, after the loss of her husband, finds herself confronting a painful and unexpected dilemma.
She explained what happened.
My husband passed away nearly three years ago, leaving me to raise our 8-year-old child on my own. Since his death, I’ve uncovered truths about him that would have ended our marriage had he been alive.
About six weeks ago, a process server came looking for him with a court order to submit DNA for a paternity test. I handed him a copy of the death certificate and sent him on his way.
Not long after, a woman appeared at my door with a child, claiming this was my late husband’s son. Is it? I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t care. The child resembles him, but he’s young enough that he must have been conceived just before my husband’s death.
I informed her that he had passed away and directed her to his grave. Almost immediately, she began demanding ’her half’ of his estate. I couldn’t help but laugh and tell her that half of nothing was nothing, and she was welcome to it.
Where I might be seen as the bad guy is that, while there was no estate, there were assets that bypassed probate. One of those was a rental property given to us by his parents, deeded to us as joint tenants with rights of survivorship. When he died, it became mine.
I’ve since sold the property, and that money will go toward our child’s college education. Legally, I’m covered—I’ve already consulted my attorney. While I do feel sympathy for this child, my priority is my own.
People stood on her side.
- “You were not a jerk. And for what it’s worth, that’s not a terribly uncommon scam for some reason. If you still have the papers, I’d look into if they were even legitimate.” O***Vegetable / Reddit
- “I would have said, ‘He died with a ton of debt. Let me get your info, so I can transfer half of it to you.’ She would be out of there so fast!” New_Standard_8609 / Reddit
- “You need to focus on your child and your finances. The property legally belongs to you, and there’s no proof your late husband was the father of the other child. Your priority is your own child’s future.” Trick-Measurement-20 / Reddit
- “Unless she has a way to prove paternity, you have ZERO obligations to her or her affair baby. Even if he is, the rental property was in your name, so it was not your husband’s to give away. Remember, she chose to wreck your house. I would not open the door for her.” mi_nombre_es_ricardo / Reddit
- “Don’t even give a second of thought about this again. Just tell yourself, ‘It was just a scam.’ And never talk to that person again, get a restraining order if it comes to it. Having said that, if you ever are served with papers (i.e. an actual lawsuit has been filed) then lawyer up immediately and vigorously defend yourself.” Apprehensive-Care20z / Reddit
- “It’s between your late hubby and his baby momma. You received sole possession of all assets upon his death, and you owe nothing to the baby momma. She should have informed him she was pregnant with his child while he was alive if she knew. Why did she wait 3 years to come forward?” Funny247365 / Reddit
Though the moral and ethical aspects of her decision may provoke debate, it highlights a universal truth: moving forward often requires making tough, deeply personal choices.
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