I Yelled ‘I Don’t!’ at My Own Wedding after Conversation with Groom’s Mother Whose Plan Almost Worked Out

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

A Rich Man Turned Away a 10-Year-Old Boy Begging for Help – 13 Years Later, Their Paths Cross Again in an Unexpected Twist

Soaked by rain and trembling with hunger, a young boy once asked a wealthy stranger for help, and was coldly turned away. Thirteen years later, their paths cross again, but this time the boy holds the power to change a life.

It was raining so hard I couldn’t see past the next streetlight. The kind of rain that made your clothes stick to your skin and your shoes feel like sponges.

Heavy rain | Source: Pexels

Heavy rain | Source: Pexels

I stood outside a restaurant with gold doors and soft music coming through the windows. I watched people eat warm food from behind the glass, while my stomach twisted.

I was ten. Cold. Wet. Tired. But mostly hungry.

I held a piece of cardboard with shaky letters: “Hungry. Please help.”

A homeless boy on the street | Source: Midjourney

A homeless boy on the street | Source: Midjourney

Some folks walked by and didn’t even look. A man in a brown hat stepped around me like I was trash on the sidewalk. A woman in heels pulled her coat tighter and crossed to the other side. I didn’t blame them. I was just a soggy kid standing near a place that smelled like steak and bread.

Then I saw the car.

A black car driving up to a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A black car driving up to a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

It was long and black, polished like a mirror. It rolled up without a sound and stopped right in front of the restaurant. A man stepped out. He was tall, with silver hair and a coat that looked heavy and warm. He didn’t look rushed like the others. He looked like he owned the night.

People said his name around town like it meant something. He ran some company.

A wealthy man stepping out of the car | Source: Midjourney

A wealthy man stepping out of the car | Source: Midjourney

Big deals, lots of money. I’d heard his name once when I was staying at the shelter. The workers called him “the big man with the cold heart.”

I stepped forward.

“Sir? Please… I haven’t eaten in two days. Could you maybe help me? Even leftovers are fine.”

He looked at me like I was a broken window.

A boy looking up in the rain | Source: Midjourney

A boy looking up in the rain | Source: Midjourney

“Don’t beg,” he said. “Go find your parents. Get lost.”

And just like that, he walked past me.

The doors opened. Warm air poured out. Laughter, clinking glasses. I watched him step inside, dry and clean, like I never happened. The doors shut again. I was alone in the rain.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t even speak.

A sad boy looking into the camera | Source: Midjourney

A sad boy looking into the camera | Source: Midjourney

But I didn’t forget.

Life didn’t get easier after that night. Not right away.

My mom died when I was seven. My dad left a year later. No one ever told me why. One morning he was just gone. I ended up in foster care. Some homes were okay. Some weren’t.

A crying boy | Source: Pexels

A crying boy | Source: Pexels

I didn’t talk much back then. But I listened. I watched. School became my hiding place. Books were quiet and safe. Teachers didn’t yell if you stayed in your seat and turned things in on time.

In fifth grade, I met Ms. Tully. She was my homeroom teacher. Wore big glasses and always had chalk on her hands. One day, she saw me doing extra math worksheets during lunch. I was trying to keep busy so I didn’t feel hungry.

A smiling boy with a book | Source: Pexels

A smiling boy with a book | Source: Pexels

She sat beside me and said, “You’re sharp, Jake. Ever think about college?”

I laughed. Not because it was funny. Because it felt impossible.

But she didn’t drop it. She met with counselors. Helped me apply for a scholarship to a private middle school. I got in.

It wasn’t magic. Life was still hard. I still moved around. Still counted every dollar. But that was the start.

A smiling boy with a book | Source: Pexels

A smiling boy with a book | Source: Pexels

By high school, I was tutoring other kids in math and writing code after school. I got into a good college. Full ride. Studied computer science and built apps at night in my dorm. One of them took off.

It started slow. A few downloads. Then thousands. Then millions.

I started my own company before I even graduated. By 23, I was the youngest CEO in the state.

A young man working in an office | Source: Pexels

A young man working in an office | Source: Pexels

People asked me how I did it. I always said hard work. Truth is, I never stopped being that hungry kid outside the restaurant.

That night stuck with me. The cold. The silence. The way that man looked through me like I didn’t matter.

I didn’t hate him. But I never forgot what it felt like to be invisible.

And I never stopped wondering what I’d do if I saw him again.

A young man deep in thought | Source: Pexels

A young man deep in thought | Source: Pexels

The lobby was all glass and steel. Everything smelled like lemon polish and fresh coffee. I’d been to a hundred meetings like this, but something felt different that morning. My assistant had told me the interview was for a senior finance role—someone with executive-level experience. I was early, so I waited by the window with a bottle of water in hand.

That’s when I saw him.

A man in his office | Source: Pexels

A man in his office | Source: Pexels

He was sitting near the reception desk, shoulders tight, knees bouncing. He held a resume in one hand and a folded coat in the other. His hair was thinner now. His face had deep lines. The confident, sharp man I remembered was gone. This version looked tired. Nervous. Like he hadn’t been in a room like this in a long time.

It took a second to be sure. But it was him.

A mature man deep in thought | Source: Pexels

A mature man deep in thought | Source: Pexels

The same man who had walked past me in the rain thirteen years ago. Same sharp nose. Same deep voice—I could hear it now as he thanked the receptionist with a tight smile.

I just stared at him. He didn’t notice me.

That was fine. I didn’t plan to say anything yet. I wanted to see who he was now.

A moment later, the receptionist called both our names. I stood and straightened my jacket.

A young man opening a door to his office | Source: Pexels

A young man opening a door to his office | Source: Pexels

“Right this way,” I said calmly, holding the door open.

He gave a small nod. “Thanks.”

He followed me into the conference room, glancing around. I could see it in his face—he thought I was another applicant. Just some young professional there for the same shot.

We sat across from each other.

A young man sitting at his desk | Source: Pexels

A young man sitting at his desk | Source: Pexels

I opened his resume and let a pause fill the room.

“You’re applying for the financial advisory position,” I said, keeping my tone even.

“Yes,” he said quickly. “I have over fifteen years of experience. I used to run my own firm. I stepped away for a while, but I’m ready to bring value again.”

I nodded. “Says here your company folded.”

A mature man sitting in an office | Source: Pexels

A mature man sitting in an office | Source: Pexels

He looked down. “Yes. Things happened. There were… mistakes. Partnerships I shouldn’t have trusted. I lost a lot. I’m just looking for a chance to get back on my feet.”

I watched him for a moment.

“Do you remember a rainy night? Outside a restaurant?”

He blinked. “I—what?”

A shocked mature man | Source: Freepik

A shocked mature man | Source: Freepik

“Thirteen years ago,” I continued. “A little boy stood outside that restaurant, soaking wet. Hungry. Holding a cardboard sign.”

He stared at me, eyes narrowing. “I don’t…”

“He asked you for food,” I said. “You told him, ‘Don’t beg. Go find your parents. Get lost.’”

He went pale.

A serious young man in an office | Source: Pexels

A serious young man in an office | Source: Pexels

“I…” His voice cracked. “I don’t remember. But… that sounds like something I might have said. I’m sorry.”

“That boy,” I said quietly, “was me.”

The room fell into silence. The only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioner.

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

A shocked young man in an office | Source: Freepik

A shocked young man in an office | Source: Freepik

“I’m not angry,” I said. “I’m not here to throw it back in your face. I’ve carried that moment with me—not out of hate. Just as a reminder.”

He leaned forward slowly, voice low. “I was a different man. I thought money meant I was better than people. I treated people like they were nothing. I’ve lost everything since then. I see it now. I do.”

I believed him. At least, I believed he meant it.

A serious young man looking at his laptop | Source: Freepik

A serious young man looking at his laptop | Source: Freepik

I closed his resume. “We won’t be offering you the job,” I said.

He nodded slowly. “I understand.”

“But,” I added, reaching into my folder, “a friend of mine runs a firm. They’re hiring. And they believe in giving second chances.”

I slid a card across the table.

A man showing a business card | Source: Pexels

A man showing a business card | Source: Pexels

He picked it up like it was made of gold. His hands shook.

“You’d do that for me?”

“I would,” I said. “Because someone once believed in me when they didn’t have to.”

He stood, clutching the card, eyes glassy.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I mean that.”

A smiling mature man | Source: Pexels

A smiling mature man | Source: Pexels

I nodded once. “Good luck.”

He walked out of the room, a little straighter than before.

I stood by the window, watching people move along the sidewalk below. Some held umbrellas. Some just hurried through the rain. I thought about that night again, how cold I was, how invisible I felt. I never wanted revenge. I only wanted to matter.

A man looking out of the window | Source: Freepik

A man looking out of the window | Source: Freepik

Today, I saw a man fall from the place I once watched him rise. But I didn’t push him down. I offered a hand. Because kindness isn’t weakness. It’s strength. And maybe, just maybe, that boy in the rain can finally let go of the hurt. Not forget, but forgive. And keep walking forward.

If you enjoyed reading this story, consider checking out this one: Maggie adores her daughter-in-law, Lara. So when she overhears her son, Dan, planning a night with his mistress, she refuses to stay silent. With Lara by her side, she follows him, straight to his betrayal. But exposing him just isn’t enough.

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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