Man Finds Out about His Bride’s Betrayal – He Goes to the Altar with a Remote Control in His Hands
Daphne is in the middle of her brother’s wedding. As a bridesmaid, she has an obligation to Denise. But when Liam surprises them all with a video revealing Denise’s ultimate secrets, Daphne has no choice but to choose her brother—even if what he did was humiliating for Denise.
As my brother’s wedding approached, excitement buzzed through the air, filling everyone with anticipation. My brother, the groom, was a notorious prankster, and his hints at a major surprise had us all on edge.
I thought he was just creating the drama for effect—Liam was that person.
A smiling man looking at the camera | Source: Pexels
Liam and his fiancée, Denise, had been dating for so long that it didn’t come as a surprise when she asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.
“Please, Daphne,” she asked, gifting me a box full of goodies. “I need you to be there with me on our big day—you’re not just Liam’s little sister, but mine, too.”
Two gift wrapped boxes | Source: Unsplash
Of course, I accepted. Denise did feel like a sister to me—in fact, she was the one who planned my 21st birthday party instead of the friends that I thought would do it.
So, when it came to wedding planning, I think Denise spent more time talking about their wedding to me than Liam.
Gold 21st foil balloons | Source: Unsplash
“I’m just wasting my time with Liam,” she said. “You can make notes for us. And we can do the wedding cake tasting.”
Liam, on the other hand, seemed like he was doing the bare minimum with the wedding—but the reality is that he was busy putting together a beautiful video for the wedding.
A wedding planner and notebooks | Source: Pexels
“I’m going to have it played just before we do our vows,” he said when I went to visit him.
He showed me a folder on his laptop where he was saving all his and Denise’s videos and photos, ready to create the video.
A man using a laptop | Source: Unsplash
“Do you think Liam has cold feet?” Denise asked me when we went wedding shopping.
“No,” I replied honestly. “He’s planning something for you, that’s taking all his time at the moment.”
“What?” she asked enthusiastically.
“I’m sworn to secrecy,” I said. “Now, go and try on dresses!”
A row of wedding dresses | Source: Unsplash
On the morning of the wedding, I got to the hotel suite early. I wanted to see Liam before getting ready with Denise and the other bridesmaids.
“You have no idea what’s coming,” he teased, sipping on a glass of champagne as he got ready.
“Oh boy,” I said. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned.”
Two glasses of champagne | Source: Unsplash
The ceremony was perfect—and everything had gone exactly to plan as Denise wanted.
From the flowers to the music to the scented candles that perfumed the venue. It was all perfect.
When the time came for the vows, my brother told the priest to wait.
A couple kneeling before a priest | Source: Unsplash
“I have something to show you all,” he said. “This is Denise and my love story from the beginning to right now.”
He pulled a remote from his pocket with a flourish, while two of his groomsmen wheeled a TV screen to the middle of the altar, just in front of where Liam and Denise were standing.
“Watch this,” he said, stepping back to join his groomsmen. And then he pressed play.
A person holding a remote control | Source: Unsplash
The screen came alive with their love story—their first kiss, snippets from trips together, cozy nights in, dinners cooked together, and so on.
The montage tugged at heartstrings, and all the guests were enthralled.
A close-up of a couple | Source: Unsplash
But the real shock was still to come.
As the video ended, the priest went back to his position, ready to continue the ceremony from where he left off. He called for Denise and Liam to resume their positions, too.
He solemnly asked if anyone objected.
A couple at the altar | Source: Pexels
Before anyone knew what was happening, Liam dropped Denise’s hand and stepped away, back down the aisle.
“I do,” he declared.
“What?” Denise hissed. “Liam, this isn’t the time for one of your pranks.”
“This isn’t a prank,” he said.
Bride and groom at the altar | Source: Pexels
He held up the remote control again and pressed another button—the air was thick with tension as music began to fill the room.
This new video was a stark contrast—it showed his bride in their shared home, but Denise wasn’t alone.
Instead, she was wearing lingerie and depicted in a compromising situation with another man.
An intimate photo of a couple | Source: Pexels
The room fell deathly quiet, every eye glued to the screen, then slowly turning to gauge her reaction at my brother’s reveal.
Denise turned around slowly to face her guests, her face ghostly pale, her eyes wide with horror.
“This can’t be happening,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
Then, the same man from the video swore loudly—he was seated at the back of the venue, dressed in a suit.
A man in a suit | Source: Pexels
“This is why I won’t be marrying Denise today,” Liam said, his loud voice breaking the silence, his tone even but heavy with emotion.
“I couldn’t let us all be here, witnessing what was supposed to be love, without the truth being known.”
The ceremony was ground to a halt, and the festive atmosphere evaporated into a thick, awkward tension.
Denise staggered slightly, looking around as if seeking an escape or an ally. She kicked off her shoes and picked them up.
A bride holding her shoes | Source: Pexels
“It’s not what it looks like,” she said. “Liam, please, not here. Let’s talk about it outside.”
I wanted to be able to look at Denise and feel sorry for her—we had been so close for so many years. But the evidence had been in the video. As close as we were, she was just another cheater.
A woman who had hurt my brother.
She pleaded with Liam again, louder this time. Tears fell down her face.
But the damage was done. My brother’s gaze never wavered from the woman he was supposed to marry.
A crying bride | Source: Pexels
“How long?” he asked, his voice a low growl.
“Not long,” she managed to say, her composure breaking. “I’m so sorry, you were never supposed to know about it.”
“In our own home, though? Seriously, Denise?” my brother retorted sharply, his hurt palpable to all watching.
“You brought him into our home,” he said.
The crowd murmured, some guests shaking their heads, others unable to look away from the unfolding drama.
A couple lying in bed | Source: Pexels
The priest stepped back. I wondered if he was thinking about taking Liam and Denise in for couples’ counseling—something that they had refused when they booked the priest in the first place.
Liam walked out first, abandoning his wedding and all the guests he and Denise had chosen.
Denise ran out behind him, calling out to Liam, but he refused to acknowledge her presence. Her mother ran out behind her.
A bride running | Source: Unsplash
Later, I walked around the hotel to find my brother. I found him sitting at the bar, drinking his feelings away while eating a bowl of olives.
“Did you know?” he asked me.
“No, of course not,” I said quickly.
It turned out that when Liam was going through the videos and photos on his laptop, he ended up looking through Denise’s, too.
A hotel bar | Source: Pexels
“I just wanted to see if there was anything else that I could add to the video,” he said sadly.
I ordered myself a drink and got comfortable next to my brother—from the looks of it, we were going to be there for a long time.
“I went through the first folder,” he admitted. “And it was incredible because she had all these photos that I hadn’t seen before. But in the next folder, there was the video of Denise with that man. It wasn’t even a locked folder, Daphne,” he said.
A cocktail on a tray | Source: Unsplash
We were both silent for a while, and Liam gulped away his drink.
“Do you think I was wrong to expose her?” he asked.
“No,” I said honestly. “But maybe you should have spoken to her privately. There’s no knowing how this could wreck her. Or what she’ll do next.”
I sat back in my seat and helped myself to the bowl of pretzels that the bartender had left out for us.
“I have no intention of checking on her,” Liam said. “I don’t care.”
A bowl of pretzel sticks and nuts | Source: Unsplash
I didn’t have any intention of getting Liam to forgive Denise. There was no point in trying to get him to forgive her after what she had done—Liam had always been sure of one thing. Cheating was the absolute deal breaker in a relationship.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s go eat some wedding cake. That can’t go to waste, too.”
I followed my brother out to the dining room that had been set up for the wedding reception.
I knew that as much as I wanted to check on Denise—Liam needed me in his corner.
A white wedding cake with fruit | Source: Unsplash
What would you have done?
I Fell for My Daughter-in-Law’s Grumpy Neighbor, but Thanksgiving Exposed the Awful Truth About Our Relationship – Story of the Day
Living with my son and his unbearable wife was far from the peaceful arrangement I had imagined. But when the grumpy neighbor next door unexpectedly asked me to dinner, everything began to change. Little did I know, a secret plan was unfolding — one that would turn my life upside down.
I had been living with my son Andrew and his ever-resentful wife, Kate, for two weeks. It wasn’t an arrangement either of them had ever wanted, but my accidental, slightly exaggerated leg injury had finally forced Kate’s reluctant consent.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
She opposed it, of course—she had for years—but this time, she had no choice.
Stepping out onto the porch that morning, I spotted her in the yard, raking leaves. Watching her from a distance, I sighed. The poor girl hadn’t the faintest idea what she was doing.
“Kate, you’re doing it all wrong!” I called, raising my voice. She didn’t even look up.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I assumed she hadn’t heard, so I moved closer, wincing for effect. “I’m telling you, you’re raking them the wrong way. Start with small piles, then combine them into one big heap. Dragging them across the yard is a waste of time.”
She stopped abruptly, leaning on the rake, and turned to face me. Her face betrayed the exhaustion of carrying a child and hosting an unwanted guest.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“I thought your leg hurt,” she said flatly, her gaze drifting to my suspiciously steady walk. “Maybe it’s time for you to go home?”
The nerve of her! Clutching my leg for emphasis, I replied indignantly, “I was trying to help you, despite the pain, and this is how you thank me?”
Kate rested a hand on her belly, the protective gesture unmistakable. “I’m seven months pregnant. Helping would mean actually doing something useful,” she said, her voice sharper than the autumn air.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Rude, I thought, but I forced a tight smile. She wasn’t worth the argument.
Across the fence, Mr. Davis, their grouchy neighbor, shuffled into view, his perpetual scowl in place.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Davis!” I chirped, trying to soften his hard expression. He grumbled something under his breath and disappeared into his house without so much as a nod. Just like Kate—miserable and unsociable.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Back inside, I noticed dust on the furniture again. Kate was on maternity leave—surely, she could spare time to clean. Andrew deserved a better-kept home after all his hard work.
Later, Kate returned to the house and started preparing dinner. Naturally, I offered her a few helpful tips, but my advice seemed to fall on deaf ears. Eventually, she turned and said coldly, “Please, just leave the kitchen.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
That evening, as Andrew came through the door, I heard her complaining to him. Leaning close to the wall, I caught snippets of their conversation.
“We discussed this,” Andrew said, his tone measured. “It’ll benefit everyone.”
“I know,” Kate replied with a weary sigh. “I’m already trying, but it’s harder than you think.”
When I peeked around the corner, I saw Andrew embracing her, his arms wrapped protectively around her growing belly. He comforted her as if she were the victim here!
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
At dinner, I couldn’t resist pointing out that her pie was undercooked.
“I have an idea,” Kate said suddenly, her tone too cheerful to be genuine. “Why don’t you bake a pie yourself and bring it to Mr. Davis?”
I frowned. “That grump? He doesn’t even greet me,” I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at her.
“I think you’re mistaken. He’s not so bad—just shy,” she said, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Besides, I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I laughed, the sound hollow. “If that’s true, he’s the one who should make the first move. A man should court a lady.”
Kate sighed, her gaze shifting to Andrew, who squeezed her hand as if sharing a secret.
The next morning, the last thing I expected was to see Mr. Davis approaching the yard.
“Margaret,” he began stiffly, his posture as awkward as his tone. “Would you… well… have dinner with me?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“For you, it’s Miss Miller,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.
His lips twitched in frustration. “Alright, Miss Miller,” he corrected himself. “Would you allow me to invite you to dinner?”
“I allow it,” I said, crossing my arms. He nodded curtly and turned to leave.
“Is that how you invite someone?” I called after him, watching him freeze mid-step. “When? Where?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Tonight at seven. My house,” he said without turning back.
The rest of the day was a flurry of preparation. By seven sharp, I stood at his door, my heart unexpectedly fluttering. When he opened the door, his expression was as grim as ever.
Inside, he gestured for me to sit at the table. Not even a pulled-out chair—some gentleman.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
During dinner, the conversation was stilted until I mentioned my love for jazz. His face transformed, his usual gloom replaced by a boyish enthusiasm.
“I’d play my favorite record for you,” he said, his voice softer now. “And I’d even invite you to dance, but my record player’s broken.”
“You don’t need music to dance,” I said, surprising myself.
To my astonishment, he rose and extended his hand. As we swayed in the dim light, he hummed a familiar tune, one I hadn’t heard in years. Something inside me softened, and for the first time in ages, I didn’t feel alone.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Afterward, I turned to him. “Mr. Davis, it’s getting late. I should go home.”
He nodded silently, his usual reserved demeanor returning, and walked me to the door.
Before I stepped outside, he hesitated. “You can call me Peter,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
“And you can call me Margaret,” I replied, smiling.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Then, to my astonishment, he leaned in. For a moment, I froze, uncertain, but when his lips brushed mine, I realized I didn’t want to pull away.
The kiss was gentle and hesitant, but it stirred something I hadn’t felt in years.
As he pulled back, he searched my face for a reaction. I simply smiled, my heart lighter than it had been in ages.
“Good night, Peter,” I said softly, stepping outside. The cool night air met my flushed cheeks, but the smile stayed on my face all the way home—and long after.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Peter became an irreplaceable part of my days. We spent hours together, laughing over neighborhood gossip, reading books from his vast collection, and trying our hands at new recipes.
While I cooked, he’d hum my favorite songs, filling the house with warmth.
I found a joy I hadn’t known in years, a quiet contentment that made everything else fade.
Kate’s sharp remarks no longer bothered me; my world revolved around Peter.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
On Thanksgiving, I invited him to dinner so he wouldn’t spend the day alone. I noticed him slipping into the kitchen to speak with Kate. Curious, I followed.
“Kate, I wanted to talk to you about the record player,” Peter said, his voice hesitant but firm.
“Mr. Davis, I’ve already ordered it. It’ll arrive soon. You have no idea how grateful I am,” Kate replied with a hint of relief. “You’ve made my life so much easier. I don’t know how you put up with her, but soon the record player will be yours. Thank you for agreeing to this whole charade.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The words hit me like a slap. A record player? Putting up with me? A charade? The realization burned through me as anger surged.
“So, this was all a game?!” I burst into the kitchen, my voice trembling with fury.
Kate froze, her face pale. “Oh…” was all she managed.
“Care to explain?!” I shouted, my gaze darting between her and Peter.
Andrew rushed in, his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s going on?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Your wife concocted some scheme against me!” I exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Kate.
Andrew sighed deeply. It was as if he was bracing himself for a storm. “Mom, it wasn’t just her. It was my idea too. We thought you and Mr. Davis might make each other happy. Neither of you would have made the first move, so we gave him a little… encouragement.”
“Encouragement?” I repeated, my voice rising.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“We offered him a record player,” Andrew admitted, his tone measured but guilty. “In exchange for going on dates with you.”
“Andrew, why?” Kate whispered.
“At least my son is honest with me!” I snapped, crossing my arms.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Your son was also at his wit’s end with you!” Kate shot back, her voice tinged with frustration. “You were constantly interfering in our lives, nitpicking every little thing I did. And I’m pregnant with your grandchild—I couldn’t handle the stress! So yes, we came up with this plan, and it worked perfectly. You finally had something to do, and I got a break!”
Her words hung in the air, stinging more than I cared to admit. I shook my head, disbelief coursing through me. “You know what, Peter? I could have expected this from her. But not from you.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Margaret, I can explain…” Peter began, stepping toward me.
But I was too angry to listen. I stormed out of the house, my old leg injury reminding me of its presence with every step.
“Margaret!” Peter called after me. “Margaret, wait!”
Spinning around, I glared at him. “What?! What could you possibly say? I’m too old for these games!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He stopped, his face clouded with regret. “I told Kate I didn’t need her record player! That I just wanted to be with you!” he shouted, his voice raw with emotion.
“That doesn’t change the fact that you agreed to it at first,” I retorted, my voice trembling.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Because you were awful!” Peter snapped, then softened. “Or at least, that’s what I thought. I heard how you constantly picked on Kate, always telling her what to do. But the truth is, I wasn’t any better—grumpy, closed off, and bitter. You changed me, Margaret. You made me feel alive again. You reminded me how to find joy in the little things.”
I hesitated, his words piercing through my anger. “Why should I believe you?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Peter stepped closer, his gaze steady. “Because I’ve fallen for you, Margaret. For the meticulous, bossy, always-right woman who also cares so deeply, who cooks meals that feel like home, and who knows all my favorite songs by heart. I love you—all of you.”
Tears welled in my eyes, his confession shaking me to my core. The truth was undeniable—I had fallen for him too. No matter how furious I was, my feelings wouldn’t let me walk away.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
He reached out, gently brushing a tear from my cheek. “I’m sorry for hurting you. Please, give me a second chance.”
I nodded slowly, letting the tension ease. “Alright,” I said, my voice softening. “But you’re keeping that record player from Kate. We’ll need it for our music.” Peter laughed, relief and joy washing over his face.
From that Thanksgiving on, Peter and I were inseparable. Each year, we celebrated the holiday with music playing on that record player, our love growing stronger with every tune.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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