When Father Michael is conducting a funeral service for a woman, he notices an oddly shaped birthmark on her neck, exactly like his own. What comes next is a journey of self-discovery through the grieving process. Will Father Michael get the answers he so desperately wants to find?
The cathedral was silent, veiled in the heavy air of loss. Shadows from towering candles flickered along the marble floor as mourners dressed in black filled the pews, their heads bowed in reverence.
A funeral in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney
Eleanor, known throughout the community as a generous but reserved woman, had left behind both a sizable fortune and an enduring mystery.
Father Michael took a deep breath, the weight of yet another funeral pressing on him as he approached her casket. He’d never met Eleanor in person, yet something about her presence had always seemed familiar, almost hauntingly so.
As he moved closer, a strange compulsion stopped him. It was something that he couldn’t explain.
A priest in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney
He paused, then leaned in, bowing his head to begin the prayer. But as he did, his gaze drifted to her neck, and he froze.
Just behind her ear, a small, purplish birthmark stood out against her pale skin. It was almost shaped like a plum, the same shape and color as the one he had carried his whole life.
“How?” he muttered. “What does this mean?”
A woman in a casket | Source: Midjourney
A chill shot through him, his hand reaching up to press against his neck. He was well aware that everyone was looking at him, but still, he couldn’t help himself.
This is impossible, he thought.
His heart hammered as memories flooded him, half-forgotten sounds and incidents from his years in the orphanage, from the searches for any record of his parents. The longing he’d held onto for so long stirred within him, demanding answers.
A little boy standing in a room | Source: Midjourney
Is there a connection between Eleanor and me? he wondered.
After the service, as the organ played its final verse, the mourners began to disperse, and Father Michael approached Eleanor’s children. They were all clustered near the altar, as her daughters decided who was taking home the floral bouquets.
His request hung on his lips like a prayer he wasn’t sure he was ready to speak.
A close up of a priest | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry for interrupting,” he said. “But I… I need to know something.”
“Of course, Father,” Jason, the youngest son, said. “Whatever you need.”
“I just wanted to know if there’s any chance that Eleanor… if she might have had a child. Another child, I mean. Years ago. Many years ago?”
Eleanor’s eldest son, Mark, frowned deeply, exchanging a wary glance with his siblings.
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry, Father, but what are you saying?” he asked. “Do you know something we don’t?”
“Did our mother come to you in confidence? Was there a confessional?” one of the daughters asked.
Father Michael took a deep breath and swallowed his nerves.
A close up of a priest | Source: Midjourney
“I don’t know,” he said, looking at Mark. “And no, your mother didn’t come to confessional. But I have reason to believe that it is true… If… if I could request a DNA test, just to put this to rest, I would be grateful.”
A wave of discomfort swept over the group, some of them shifting uncomfortably. Mark’s face hardened, skepticism clearly written all over.
“With all due respect, Father, this sounds preposterous. Trust me, our mother was an upstanding woman. She would have told us if something like this were true.”
A woman looking surprised | Source: Midjourney
Father Michael shifted on his feet.
“I understand that,” he said. “It’s just that Eleanor could have had her child very young, and while she wouldn’t have done anything wrong by allowing that child to be adopted, the child still exists.”
Father Michael knew he was speaking as a priest, but he couldn’t turn it off. He had been trained to speak softly and objectively. And even now, he didn’t know how to fight for this DNA test.
A priest looking uncertain | Source: Midjourney
Instead, he nodded and began to back away before anything else happened.
“Wait,” Anna, Eleanor’s youngest daughter, said. She stepped forward, her gaze soft as she studied him.
“If you believe that it could be true, then I’ll do the test. I’d want answers, too. Are you the child?”
“I could be,” Father Michael said. “It’s that birthmark on her neck. I have it, too. And when I was at the orphanage, the old woman who was in charge of the kitchen said that all she could remember of my mother was the birthmark on her neck.”
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
A week crawled by, and each day, Father Michael found himself tossing in his bed as he imagined what it would mean if it were true. Then, one morning, an envelope arrived at the rectory. He tore it open, barely able to see through his shaking hands as he read the results.
It was a match.
Days later, Father Michael sat alone in the rectory. Since the results had come out, he had visited Eleanor’s family, hoping they would be willing to listen now the results were concrete information.
DNA testing | Source: Midjourney
Eleanor’s daughters, his half-sisters, were ready to welcome him into the family, but the brothers didn’t want anything to do with him. It was as though having a new “big brother” was too threatening for them.
He didn’t know what else to do. He wasn’t going to fight for a way into their lives and their family. He wasn’t going to push himself in. But it did help that he knew where he belonged now.
Except… the one person with all the answers wasn’t around anymore.
A priest sitting in a cathedral | Source: Midjourney
“Father Michael?” an elderly woman’s soft voice brought him back to the present. “I’m Margaret, a friend of your mother. I was Eleanor’s best friend. Her daughter, Anna, told me everything when I went to have tea with them.”
“How can I help you?” he asked.
Her words struck him like a blow. Your mother. He motioned for her to come in, barely able to speak as they settled into chairs across from each other.
An elderly woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
Margaret took a deep breath, her eyes misting over.
“Father,” she said. “Eleanor and I were close, closer than sisters, even. She told me things that no one else knew.”
He leaned forward, his heart pounding.
“Please, I need to know everything. I spent my entire life wondering where I came from.”
A priest sitting in an office | Source: Midjourney
Margaret gave a sad smile.
“She was always so careful, our Eleanor. Always afraid of what people would think. But one summer, she met a man, a traveler, a free spirit. He was very different from who we were back then. And she said that he was like no one she’d ever met.”
Father Michael closed his eyes, imagining his mother as a young woman, full of life, swept away by the prospect of love. He didn’t speak; he was afraid that if he interrupted, the truth would slip through his fingers.
A smiling young couple | Source: Midjourney
“She didn’t even tell me at first,” Margaret continued. “When she found out she was pregnant, she was terrified. Her family had expectations. A child born out of wedlock would have ruined her. So, she concocted this story, and she told everyone that she was leaving for the North Pole, studying penguins of all things.”
The old woman chuckled and sighed.
“I thought it was absurd, but she left. She had you in secret and arranged for you to be taken to the orphanage.”
A pregnant woman holding her belly | Source: Midjourney
Father Michael’s throat tightened, emotions too tangled up to unravel.
“She gave me away to protect her reputation?” he asked.
“Oh no, Father,” she said. “It wasn’t about reputation, it was about survival. Eleanor loved you. I knew that. She would check in at the orphanage from time to time.”
“She asked about me?” he asked.
The exterior of a building | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, yes,” Margaret said, smiling. “She kept track, as best she could. She couldn’t be in your life, but she made sure you were safe.”
Father Michael’s heart ached.
“I spent my life thinking that she’d abandoned me. And all this time, she… she was watching from a distance?”
A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney
“She didn’t forget you. It broke her heart, Father. She loved you in her own, quiet way. She just had to do this because it was either this or… who knows what your grandfather would have done.”
She’d loved him, even if he’d never felt it, even if she’d never told him herself.
In the weeks that followed, Eleanor’s family decided to embrace Father Michael with cautious but open arms. Anna became a steady presence at the rectory, often stopping by with scones or muffins and ever-ready to fill him in on family stories, recounting memories of Eleanor.
A basket of muffins | Source: Midjourney
One afternoon, as Father Michael sat in his office, Anna came by with a small, worn photo album.
“I thought you might want this,” she said, placing it in his hands. “It’s… all the photos we have of Mom. Maybe they’ll help you piece her together.”
An old album on a table | Source: Midjourney
The next day, Father Michael found himself at Eleanor’s grave.
“I forgive you,” he said. “And I thank you for watching over me.”
Flowers on a grave | Source: Midjourney
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
A Homeless Man Approached Me and Showed Me a Birthmark on His Neck Identical to Mine
I never imagined a quick lunch break would lead me to the man who might be my father — a homeless stranger with the same birthmark as mine. As we wait for the DNA test result that could change everything, I can’t shake the feeling that my life is about to take a turn I never saw coming.
I stepped out of the office, loosening my tie as I hit the street. The sun was glaring, and the city buzzed around me, but all I could think about was grabbing a quick bite before my afternoon meetings. Work was nonstop these days, but that’s what comes with the territory. I’ve worked too hard to get here to complain now.
Man walking in the city | Source: Pexels
Growing up in that old trailer with Mom, life wasn’t easy. We didn’t have much, but she made sure we had enough. Mom, Stacey, was a force of nature.
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.
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.
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.
“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.
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.
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.”
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.
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.
“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.
“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.”
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.
“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.
“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.
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.
“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.
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.
“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.
“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.
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.
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.
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.
“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.
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.”
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.
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.
Leave a Reply