Amber had given up on love but sparks fly when she meets her father’s old friend, Steve, at a BBQ. As their whirlwind romance leads to marriage, everything seems perfect. But on their wedding night, Amber discovers Steve has an unsettling secret that changes everything.
I pulled up to my parents’ house and stared at the line of cars parked across the lawn.
“What’s this all about?” I muttered, already bracing myself for whatever family surprise was waiting inside.
A woman in her car | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed my purse, locked the car, and headed toward the house, hoping it was nothing too chaotic.
As soon as I opened the door, the smell of grilled meat hit me, along with the sound of my dad’s booming laugh. I walked into the living room and peeked out the back window.
Of course, Dad was hosting some kind of impromptu BBQ. The whole backyard was filled with people, most of them from his auto repair shop.
People at a BBQ | Source: Pexels
“Amber!” Dad’s voice cut through my thoughts as he flipped a burger with that same apron he’s had for years. “C’mon, grab a drink and join us. It’s just the guys from work.”
I tried not to groan. “Looks like the whole town’s here,” I mumbled, slipping off my shoes.
Before I could join in the familiar, chaotic atmosphere, the doorbell rang. Dad tossed the spatula down and wiped his hands on his apron.
A man walking into a house | Source: Midjourney
“That must be Steve,” he said, almost to himself. He glanced at me as he reached for the doorknob. “You haven’t met him yet, right?”
Before I could even answer, Dad had already flung the door open.
“Steve!” he boomed, giving the guy a solid clap on the back. “Come on in, you’re just in time. Oh, and meet my daughter, Amber.”
I looked up, and my heart skipped a beat.
A man standing on a doorstep | Source: Midjourney
Steve was tall and a little rough around the edges in a ruggedly handsome way, with graying hair and eyes that somehow managed to be both warm and deep. He smiled at me, and I felt this strange flutter in my chest that I wasn’t prepared for.
“Nice to meet you, Amber,” he said, offering his hand.
His voice was calm and steady. I shook his hand, a little self-conscious about how I must look after driving for hours.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
A woman | Source: Midjourney
From that point on, I couldn’t stop glancing at him. He was the kind of man who made everyone around him comfortable, always listening more than talking. I tried to focus on the conversations around me, but every time our eyes met, I felt this pull.
It was ridiculous. I hadn’t even been thinking about love or relationships for ages. Not after everything I’d been through.
I’d pretty much given up on finding “the one” and was more focused on work and family. But something about Steve made me want to reconsider, even though I wasn’t ready to admit it.
A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney
As the day wound down, I finally said my goodbyes and headed to my car. Of course, when I tried to start it, the engine sputtered and died.
“Great,” I groaned, slumping back in my seat. I considered going back inside to ask Dad for help, but before I could, there was a knock on my window.
It was Steve.
“Car trouble?” he asked, smiling as if this kind of thing happened every day.
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
I sighed. “Yeah, it’s not starting. I was just going to get my dad, but…”
“Don’t worry about it. Let me take a look,” he offered, already rolling up his sleeves.
I watched him work, his hands moving with practiced ease. Within a few minutes, my car roared back to life. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until I exhaled.
A car engine | Source: Pexels
“There you go,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Should be good now.”
I smiled, genuinely grateful. “Thanks, Steve. I guess I owe you one.”
He shrugged and gave me a look that made my stomach flip. “How about dinner? We can call it even.”
I froze for a second. Dinner? Was he asking me out?
A smiling man | Source: Midjourney
I felt that familiar flicker of doubt, the little voice in the back of my head reminding me of all the reasons I shouldn’t say yes. But something in Steve’s eyes made me want to take the chance.
“Yeah, dinner sounds good.”
And just like that, I agreed. I never would’ve imagined then that Steve was exactly the man I needed to heal my wounded heart… or how deeply he’d hurt me, either.
A woman | Source: Midjourney
Six months later, I stood in front of the mirror in my childhood bedroom, staring at myself in a wedding dress. It was surreal, honestly. After everything I’d been through, I didn’t think this day would ever come.
I was 39 years old, and I’d given up on the whole fairy tale, but here I was — about to marry Steve.
The wedding was small, just close family and a few friends, exactly what we wanted.
A wedding venue | Source: Pexels
I remember standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, and feeling this overwhelming sense of calm. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t second-guessing anything.
“I do,” I whispered, barely able to keep the tears from spilling over.
“I do,” Steve said back, his voice thick with emotion.
And just like that, we were husband and wife.
A newlywed couple | Source: Pexels
That night, after all the congratulations and hugs, we finally got some alone time. Steve’s house, our house now, was quiet, the rooms still unfamiliar to me. I slipped into the bathroom to change into something more comfortable, my heart full and light.
But the minute I slipped back into the bedroom, I was greeted by a shocking sight.
Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me, talking softly to someone… a someone who wasn’t there!
A man speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
My heart skipped a beat.
“I wanted you to see this, Stace. Today was perfect… I just wish you could’ve been here.” His voice was soft, full of emotion.
I stood frozen in the doorway, trying to make sense of what I was hearing.
“Steve?” My voice sounded small, unsure.
He turned around slowly, guilt flickering across his face.
A startled man | Source: Midjourney
“Amber, I—”
I stepped closer, the air between us thick with unspoken words. “Who… who were you talking to?”
He took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. “I was talking to Stacy. My daughter.”
I stared at him, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. He’d told me he’d had a daughter. I knew she had died. But I didn’t know about… this.
A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney
“She died in a car accident, with her mom,” he continued, his voice strained. “But sometimes I talk to her. I know it sounds crazy, but I just… I feel like she’s still here with me. Especially today. I wanted her to know about you. I wanted her to see how happy I am.”
I didn’t know what to say. My chest felt tight and I couldn’t quite catch my breath. Steve’s grief was raw, a living thing between us, and it made everything feel heavy.
But I didn’t feel scared. I didn’t feel angry. Just… so sad. Sad for him, for everything he’d lost, and the way he’d been carrying it all alone. His grief hurt me as though it were my own.
A sad man | Source: Midjourney
I sat down beside him, my hand finding his. “I get it,” I said softly. “I do. You’re not crazy, Steve. You’re grieving.”
He let out a shaky breath, looking at me with such vulnerability that it nearly broke my heart. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner. I just didn’t want to scare you away.”
“You’re not scaring me away,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We all have things that haunt us. But we’re in this together now. We can carry this together.”
An earnest woman | Source: Midjourney
Steve’s eyes welled up with tears, and I pulled him into a hug, feeling the weight of his pain, his love, his fear, all of it wrapped up in that moment.
“Maybe… maybe we can talk to someone about it. A therapist, maybe. It doesn’t have to be just you and Stacy anymore.”
He nodded against my shoulder, his grip on me tightening. “I’ve thought about it. I just didn’t know how to start. Thank you for understanding, Amber. I didn’t know how much I needed this.”
An emotional man | Source: Midjourney
I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, my heart swelling with a love deeper than I’d ever known. “We’ll figure it out, Steve. Together.”
And as I kissed him, I knew we would. We weren’t perfect, but we were real, and for the first time, that felt like enough.
But that’s the thing about love, isn’t it? It’s not about finding some perfect person without any scars; it’s about finding someone whose scars you’re willing to share.
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
Here’s another story: Emma’s world shatters when Steve’s ex, Susan, interrupts the ceremony to announce that she’s dying and beg Steve to spend her last six months with her. Shocked and betrayed, Emma demands answers, only to find Steve torn between his past and their future.
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 Parents Arranged a Marriage for Me, So I Decided to Test My Wealthy Fiancé
When Nadia returns home from college abroad, she has no choice but to agree to an arranged marriage to a wealthy man—a man chosen by her parents. But as the tentative date for their wedding draws closer, Nadia decides to test him, to truly understand who she’s marrying.
I never imagined that I’d find myself disguised as a homeless woman, sitting on a sidewalk outside of a restaurant. I sat there, hunched with a shawl wrapped around my shoulders.
A woman sitting on the floor | Source: Pexels
People passed me without paying any attention, as I watched for the sleek black car that often carried my fiancé, Danny.
Despite it being the 21st century, in my culture, arranged marriage still holds its own.
A black Mercedes-Benz | Source: Pexels
But I had been studying in America for the past four years, and my ideal of independence and personal freedom was something very different from what I had left home with.
Now, I found myself rebelling at every turn.
A woman in a red coat | Source: Pexels
When my parents first broke the news of my engagement to Danny, I was still ensconced in the States—my mind buzzing with new ideologies and lectures on autonomy.
“Now that you’ve been abroad and have studied,” my mother said, “it’s time for you to become a wife.”
I tried to protest, but it always fell on deaf ears.
A smiling woman in a white dress | Source: Pexels
“Nadia,” my mother said, “there is no choice here. Your father and I have done our research. Danny is a good one. He will take care of you.”
My mother moved around the kitchen, mixing a concoction of spices as she began to cook dinner.
Assorted cooking spices | Source: Pexels
“And that’s just it?” I asked, making some tea. “I have to marry this man?”
She nodded and smiled at me.
“Nadia, your father and I did it—we had an arranged marriage, and everything turned out well for us.”
A bride and groom holding hands | Source: Pexels
Now, I was faced with meeting a stranger whom I was going to marry—a stranger and his affluent family.
“You’re going to meet him soon, and his family. They own a line of restaurants, darling. They’re always going out of their way to help people.”
Restaurant interior | Source: Pexels
A few days later, we were all settled around the dining table. It was the first time that I was meeting Danny, and I had no idea what to expect.
When I stepped out of the house, he was there in the driveway, dressed in a suit—holding a gift bag and flowers.
A bouquet of roses | Source: Pexels
On first impression, he was good-looking, but I needed him to be more than just a nice face to look at.
This man was going to be my husband. I was stuck with him. And judging from the way my parents were behaving, I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
A man wearing a suit | Source: Pexels
As my father welcomed Danny and his parents into our home, my mother brought out a tray of tea and sweets.
“I didn’t know what you’d like,” she said, “so I got everything.”
Tea on a tray | Source: Unsplash
Danny smiled at her; he seemed to genuinely care about impressing my parents. We exchanged polite conversation during the tea, and when it was time for us to have dinner, we sat around the table.
“Danny,” my father said, pointing to the head of the table, “sit here.”
My mother began to fuss over Danny and his family, ensuring that she piled their plates high with food.
A table full of food | Source: Pexels
“I need you to leave here knowing that you’ve been fed,” she said.
I poured myself a glass of juice. It was going to be a long meal.
“Why did you decide to study in America?” Danny asked me, frowning over his glass of water. “Didn’t you want to stay around family?”
Juice in glass bottles | Source: Pexels
“I applied not thinking that I could get in,” I admitted. “But then I did, and I wanted it to be a new challenge for me.”
“But being away for so long?” he pressed. “I bet you spent time in the library.”
“It was just four years. I came home a few times anyway.”
A library | Source: Pexels
“Family is very important to me, Nadia,” he said firmly.
I looked at my mother, who refused to meet my eye. Without me replying to Danny, the silence took over for a few moments. Only the sound of scraping cutlery and chewing could be heard.
A woman eating | Source: Unsplash
“Tell Nadia about your charity,” my father said, beaming at me.
“Oh!” Danny’s mother exclaimed, quickly putting her fork down.
She went on at length about how Danny feeds homeless people all the time, and that he had scheduled a roster for different areas around us.
Bags of food | Source: Unsplash
“Nobody will go hungry if we can help it,” Danny’s mother said.
My goodness, I thought to myself as I dug into my chicken. Do I really need to bear this for the rest of my life?
The dinner ended, and my husband-to-be left the house.
A plate of food | Source: Unsplash
“Don’t you love him?” my mother asked as we washed up the dishes and cleaned the kitchen.
“I don’t know him, Mom,” I said.
“But you will,” she replied, drying the plates with a dish towel. “You will get to know him soon.”
A person washing a glass | Source: Pexels
I didn’t have the energy to deal with it further. I went to my bedroom and sat down, wondering how I could just give in to tradition after having been away and free for so long.
I yearned for my college dorm and the liberation that had come with it. But I also knew that I would have to let go of that.
A woman in her room | Source: Pexels
Instead, I had to wait for the day of my arranged marriage. As the months closed in, the wedding drew closer, and I began to get anxious—needing pills to sleep.
I didn’t know how I was going to marry Danny, knowing only the bare minimum about him.
One morning, while pouring myself some cereal, I decided that I would dress like a homeless person and wait outside the restaurant that Danny was based at. I needed to see how he would react to someone in need.
A bowl of cereal | Source: Pexels
As the car approached, I huddled into my disguise, my voice hoarse as Danny stepped out of the car.
“Excuse me, Sir,” I said. “Could you spare…”
Danny paused, his brows furrowing slightly.
“Ma’am, what do you need? I can’t just hand you money or food for the day. We need to help you long-term.”
A man frowning | Source: Pexels
My heart tightened.
“There’s a shelter not far from here,” he said. “I can take you there, my mother volunteers there, too. You’ll be safe there. You can get a meal, a shower, clean clothing, and we can talk about getting you on your feet.”
I stood up and pulled my shawl away, revealing myself to him.
“Nadia?” he exclaimed, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?”
A shocked man | Source: Pexels
“I was testing you, Danny,” I said. “I wanted to see if you really are the person they say you are. I just needed to know. How else can I marry you?”
Danny looked stunned, then a wry smile spread across his face.
“I guess I should be honest too, then. I’ve been horrible on purpose, hoping you’d call off the wedding.”
His candidness took me aback.
A smiling man | Source: Pexels
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
Danny sighed, running a hand through his hair as he silenced his ringing phone.
“Because I thought it was all a farce. I didn’t want to be part of an arrangement. Not really. I knew that it needed to be done, because of my age. But I’ve wanted love. I’ve wanted to marry for love.”
A man holding a phone | Source: Pexels
As we sat down on a nearby bench, Danny opened up about his past.
“The parents you met are my adopted parents. My mother died when I was very young, and they took me in. I’ve built my entire persona to help people who are where I once was. It’s not just philanthropy—it’s personal.”
His words echoed in the cold air—each syllable heavy with emotion.
“Yes, I am successful. But I never wanted to use that success as leverage for a marriage. I wanted someone to see me, not my money or my past.”
Flowers on a grave | Source: Pexels
We talked through the evening, unraveling the misunderstandings and the pressure from our families. It was the first time we truly connected, seeing each other beyond the expectations set upon us.
In the weeks that followed, we began dating—real dates, filled with genuine laughter and shared dreams. Our parents saw the change in us, the way we looked at each other with newfound respect and affection.
Soon, we’ll be married, but now, I’m content with the reality of it.
A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels
What would you have done?
If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one:
When Elle’s mother passes away, she moves through the funeral in a daze. But then, she stumbles upon a man who closely resembles her. When he approaches her, he reveals that he is her biological father—who had been hidden away all this time. Elle doesn’t know whether she should tell her father and risk losing the only other parent she has ever known.
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.
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