Do parents enjoy dropping bombshells before weddings? Because mine sure did.
And by “before,” I don’t mean a week before, or even a day before. I mean thirty minutes before I was supposed to walk down the aisle.
Ryan and I met two years ago, completely by chance. I’d gone to a small community theatre to support my friend Mila, who was making her debut as a director. After the show, I stood outside holding a bouquet of flowers when Ryan, swept along with the exiting crowd, bumped straight into me—crushing the flowers in the process.
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He apologized, helped pick them up, and struck up a conversation. “I hate crowds,” I muttered.
“Me too,” he chuckled. “I’m Ryan.”
“Hanna,” I said, and just like that, something clicked.
Three months later, he proposed in the most casual, yet perfect way—in a pub, over Guinness and crispy potato skins. It was spontaneous, unpolished, but it was us.
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From then on, everything seemed picture-perfect. My family adored him. “He makes her happy—that’s all a father could want,” my dad said one evening over dinner. Ryan’s parents, especially his mother Audrey, welcomed me too. She and I even fell into a comfortable routine of coffee dates and manicures. I truly believed I was gaining not just a husband, but a second family.
Fast forward to our wedding day. A small church ceremony, intimate and carefully planned to reflect who we were as a couple. I was calm, excited, ready—until Audrey asked to speak with me.
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The tone of her voice and the way her eyes darted nervously around the room made my stomach drop. Once my hair and makeup were finished and my mother buttoned me into my dress, I faced her.
“There’s no easy way to say this,” she whispered, pulling out her phone.
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My heart thundered as she handed it to me. On the screen was a video. Ryan, or someone who looked like him, in a hotel room with another woman. Jackets tossed on the bed. Low voices. Kisses. Betrayal caught on camera.
I froze. “Are you sure this is him?”
Audrey pressed, pointing to the jacket I had bought him. The hotel room looked vaguely familiar too. She sighed as though she pitied me.
“You can overlook it, dear, but can you live with it?”
I wanted to scream. To cry. Instead, I made a choice. “No. I’ll walk down that aisle—but when it’s time for the vows, I’ll end it.”
And that’s exactly what I did.
When the priest asked for my vows, I whispered, “I don’t.” Then, louder: “I don’t!”
The silence was suffocating. Guests gasped. Ryan’s face contorted with shock. “What? Hanna? Why?”
“Ask your mom,” I said, pointing at Audrey. Reluctantly, she showed the video to the entire church.
Ryan staggered back. “That is not me, Hanna! You know it’s not!”
But I couldn’t. The jacket, the hotel—it all screamed guilt. I fled the church, my parents rushing after me. That night, I blocked Ryan’s number, convinced I had just saved myself from marrying a liar.
Two days later, Ryan showed up at my parents’ house with flowers and takeout. Against my better judgment, I let him in. That’s when he told me the truth—truth that was somehow even more disturbing than the video itself.
He had confronted Audrey, who admitted everything. The people in the video weren’t Ryan and another woman. They were two of her college students, bribed to stage the scene. She had gone so far as to edit in sounds and even plant Ryan’s jacket to make it believable.
“Why?” I asked, reeling.
“She didn’t want us to marry,” Ryan said. “She panicked. She thinks you’re… not right for me.”
My stomach churned. The woman who had smiled at me over lattes, who called me the daughter she never had, had set me up—coldly, deliberately—just to stop me from marrying her son.
I forgave Ryan. How could I not? He had been as blindsided as I was. But Audrey? That’s another story. Her betrayal cut deeper than any imagined affair could have.
We’re still together, though scarred by what happened. Trust takes time to rebuild, and the shadow of that day still lingers. Audrey has tried to reach out, but I don’t know if I can ever forgive her.
Because what she did wasn’t just sabotage. It was cruelty dressed as protection.
And every time I think about that ruined wedding day, one question still burns in my mind:
If she could go that far once, what else is she capable of?