The Wedding That Almost Wasn’t: A Mother’s Deceit
Do parents get some kind of thrill from dropping bombshells right before weddings? And when I say right before, I mean thirty minutes before walking down the aisle?
Because that’s exactly what Ryan’s mother did.
Our love story began two years ago—one of those meant-to-be moments. I was at the community theater, holding a bouquet of flowers for my best friend Mila, who had just made her directorial debut in the local musical.
The crowd poured out after the show, and before I could move, a tall, broad-shouldered guy barreled right into me, crushing the flowers in my hands.
“I am so sorry,” he said, scrambling to pick up the ruined bouquet.
“I hate crowds,” I muttered, annoyed.
He chuckled, stepping aside. “Not a fan either. I’m Ryan.”
“Hanna,” I replied.
That was it. Three months later, Ryan proposed in a dimly lit pub, grinning over a pint of Guinness and a plate of crispy potato skins. It was messy, it was us, and it was perfect.
Fast forward to last week—the day we were supposed to say I do.
At first, everything was a fairy tale. My parents adored Ryan.
“This is a different side of you, Hanna,” my mom had said one night after dinner, watching Ryan help clear the table.
“He makes her happy,” my dad added with a warm smile. “That’s all a father could want.”
Ryan’s family, the Coles, welcomed me with open arms too. His mother, Audrey, even started a weekly coffee-and-manicure ritual with me. She’d squeeze my hand and say, “You’re the daughter I never had.”
Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
The Bomb Drop
On my wedding day, I was shockingly calm. The church was decorated, the guests were seated, and in thirty minutes, I’d be Mrs. Ryan Cole.
Then Audrey pulled me aside.
“Darling, can we chat for a moment?”
I nodded, watching her fidget in the mirror as my glam team finished my hair and makeup. Something was off. Her eyes darted around the room, lingering on my wedding dress.
When my mom finally buttoned me up, I turned to Audrey. “Okay, I’m ready. What is it?”
She hesitated, then pulled out her phone. “There’s no easy way to say this… Ryan needs to be caught out.”
My stomach dropped.
She handed me the phone. A video played—a man’s back turned, a woman’s breathy laughter, a familiar jacket tossed on the bed. My jacket. The one I’d bought Ryan.
“Are you sure this is him?” My voice shook.
Audrey sighed. “Look at the jacket. Look at the hotel room. You’ve been there before, haven’t you?”
Ryan’s face wasn’t visible, but the evidence was damning.
“Hanna,” she said softly, “you could ignore this. But do you really want to marry a man who would do this to you?”
I wanted to scream. Cry. Throw something.
Instead, I straightened my spine. “I’m walking down that aisle. And when it’s time for the vows, I’ll end it.”
Audrey nodded, almost… smug.
The Wedding That Wasn’t
The church was beautiful. The music swelled. My dad squeezed my arm as we walked toward Ryan, who stood there, beaming at me like I was his whole world.
Liar.
The priest began the ceremony, speaking about love, trust, forever.
Then came the moment.
“Do you, Hanna, take Ryan to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t.”
Silence.
Ryan’s smile vanished. “Hanna… what?”
“Ask your mother,” I said, pointing at Audrey.
The entire church froze.
Ryan grabbed the phone, his face twisting in horror. “This isn’t me! Hanna, you know this isn’t me!”
Audrey stood, trembling, and without a word, walked out.
I didn’t wait for explanations. I ran.
The Truth Comes Out
For two days, I ignored Ryan’s calls, texts, voicemails. Then, on the third night, he showed up at my parents’ house with takeout and flowers.
“You think this fixes things?” I snapped.
“Just listen,” he begged.
And then he dropped the real bomb.
After the wedding, he’d stormed into Audrey’s house. She was calmly eating toast, listening to old records—like she hadn’t just destroyed our lives.
“She staged it, Hanna,” Ryan said. “Those were her students. She paid them to make that video!”
My jaw hit the floor.
Audrey, the woman who called me the daughter she never had, had orchestrated the whole thing. She didn’t want Ryan to marry me.
“She even admitted the sounds were edited,” Ryan muttered. “But adding my jacket? That was a nice touch.”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
For two days, I’d believed Ryan had betrayed me. But the truth was worse—his mother had.
Where We Stand Now
I forgave Ryan. He forgave me for publicly humiliating him.
But Audrey?
That’s a different story.
We’re still together. Still in love. But the trust is broken—not between us, but with the woman who pretended to love me just to tear me down.
One day, maybe, I’ll forgive her.
But not today.
