I knew how much my fiancé loved me until he didn’t show up at the altar on our wedding day. A day later, I saw him signing papers in my father’s office without me knowing what it was about.
Brian and I visited our favorite fine-dining restaurant on the night of our sixth anniversary as a couple. He seemed very nervous, and I kept wondering why. “What’s wrong, Brian? Are you alright?” I asked him as he shifted in his seat a couple of times while looking behind me.
He nodded and tried his best to smile. “Yeah, of course, I’m okay,” he assured me. “It’s our anniversary and I couldn’t be happier.”
I smiled at his answer and proceeded to look at the menu. I had memorized the menu from all the times we’d been at the restaurant, but I still looked look over it for old time’s sake. By the time I looked up from the menu, I got the surprise of my life.
Brian was on one knee, and there was a group of musicians behind him, playing soft, romantic music with their violins. “Jane, honey. We’ve been together for six years now, and I’m more than certain that I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Brian declared. “Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” he asked.
I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands. “Of course, yes!” I said, jumping from my seat to give Brian a hug. I looked at the beautiful solitaire ring that Brian slipped on my finger and realized how long it would have taken him to save up for something so big and beautiful.
The following day, I went to visit my parents to let them know that Brian had proposed. My mom was delighted for me and gave me a big hug. However, my dad’s reaction was another story.
“You can’t possibly be happy marrying that man, Jane,” he told me. “What will become of you and your children? Will he even afford to buy you a house? To put your kids through private school?” he started to ask.
“Dad, how could you say that? Brian works hard, and I’m working too. We’ll figure it out together as every married couple does!” I shot back.
“How long did it take him to save up for that ring, anyway? As if that’s supposed to convince me that he can take care of you. If I were you, I’d give that ring back and call the wedding off. It’s not too late, Jane. There are many wealthy bachelors I can introduce you to – men that I can actually entrust my daughter and the future of my business with,” he told me.
I scoffed in disbelief, knowing all my dad ever cared about was money. I shook my head and left the house before I could say anything I’d regret.
Brian and I planned our wedding alone, with subtle help from my mom. Three months of preparation passed, and it was finally time for the big day.
Before the ceremony, Brian couldn’t find his sister and his niece. “Where are they?” he asked his mother. Reluctantly, Brian’s mom revealed that his niece Maxine had to be taken to the hospital for an emergency operation on her heart problem.
“Your sister’s been trying to find people she can borrow money from,” his mom told him. “The hospital won’t start on the operation unless they give a downpayment, but Maxine just doesn’t have that much time left. They need to start the operation as soon as they can.”
Without a second thought, Brian decided to approach my dad to ask for help. “Sir, I know this is going to sound bad, but I was wondering if you could lend me money for my niece’s operation. I had just spent most of what’s in my account on the wedding,” Brian admitted.
I decided to have a cup of coffee at a nearby coffee shop when I suddenly saw Brian looking around the area before entering my dad’s office building.
“I promise, I will pay you back in a month. I just need to get through the month before I get my paycheck,” he asked.
My father shook his head. “I knew you were up to no good,” he scoffed. “But yes, I will help you, on one condition,” he told Brian.
“What is it, sir? I’ll do anything,” Brian said without hesitation.
“You don’t need to pay me back for the money, but you need to disappear from Jane’s life. Run away, and never come back,” he declared.
Brian’s heart twitched upon hearing about my father’s condition. However, he remembered what his mom said about Maxine not having much time left, so he reluctantly agreed. It was his only chance to save his niece’s life.
A couple of minutes later, I was at the altar, weeping. Brian didn’t show up to the wedding, and everyone was trying to console me. “What happened? We were okay yesterday,” I cried. “Where did he go?” I kept asking, after hearing from guests that Brian was at the church earlier that morning.
The following day, my dad asked to meet me at his office. I was supposed to meet him in an hour and a half, but I arrived early.
I decided to have a cup of coffee at a nearby coffee shop when I suddenly saw Brian looking around the area before entering my dad’s office building. “What is he doing here?” I asked myself before deciding to follow him.
By the time I got the bill at the coffee shop, Brian had already entered the elevator. I had a feeling that he was on the way to my dad’s office, so I hurried up the next elevator to see what it was all about.
When I arrived, I saw Brian, my dad, and my dad’s lawyer in the same room. Because the glass windows were soundproof, I could not hear what they were talking about. Instead, I watched my dad’s lawyer hand Brian some papers, which he signed before shaking hands with the other men in the room.
I couldn’t stop myself from barging in at that point. “What is this?! What are those papers and why are you here?!” I yelled.
My dad had a smug look on his face as if telling me he knew this would happen all along. “Your groom here just agreed not to see you ever again in exchange for money,” he told me.
I looked at Brian with the most painful look of betrayal. “Is that true?” I said, trying not to choke from the tightening in my throat that came after hearing what my dad had said.
“I’m sorry, Jane. It’s Maxine. She’s dying, and she needs an expensive operation to save her life,” Brian cried. “Yesterday, I asked your dad for help, and he said he’d help me if I didn’t attend the wedding. I’m sorry, Jane. I can’t bear losing my niece,” he sobbed.
“He just signed the agreement that he would never show up in your life ever again. If you hadn’t shown up, the papers stated that he would not be allowed to tell you the truth, either. But now that you’re here, I guess it’s better for you to know that he replaced your relationship for money,” my dad said, slamming the papers on the table.
“How could you do this to me?!” I yelled at my dad. “My life is not some toy you can just play with! You ruined my relationship, and you ruined what was supposed to be the best day of my life!” I cried.
“What kind of father are you?! I never want to see you again,” I said before leaving his office.
I could feel my knees grow weak, and before I could even reach the elevator, I collapsed on the floor, crying. “Why?” I cried to nobody in particular. It was then that I felt Brian’s arms wrap around me.
“I’m sorry, Jane,” he cried. “I love you with all my heart, but I also couldn’t allow Maxine to die. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
“You are the kindest, most selfless man I know,” I told Brian. “I know you only meant well. But I hope you had told me instead of going to my dad. That way, we still could have continued our wedding, and we could have helped Maxine together.”
Brian nodded and sighed upon realizing his mistake. “I didn’t know what to do. You weren’t at the church yet, and your dad was the first one I saw when I heard the news. I’m sorry, Jane,” he apologized to me.
“I understand if you never want to see me again, but I wish you could give me a chance to prove to you how much I love you. I really do, Jane,” he tried to assure me.
“I know you do, Brian, and I love you just as much,” I replied.
That day, we decided to talk about our lives and what we could do moving forward. We visited Maxine at the hospital and paid for the surgery after getting refunds from our wedding suppliers. Maxine successfully underwent surgery, and she once again became the lively, loving girl we all once knew.
Three months passed, and Brian and I decided to start a new life together. We moved to a different city to start fresh, and I decided to cut my dad out of my life for good.
“I hope you understand why I had to do this, mom,” I said when I told my mom my decision of keeping away from dad. “It’s for my own good. He was too toxic for me, and I just couldn’t take it.”
It pained my mom to hear this, but she completely understood where I was coming from. “I will always be here for you, dear,” she assured me. “Please visit me, and always keep in touch. I can’t bear not seeing you for a long time.”
With my mom’s blessing, Brian and I got married in a simple celebration. Only my mom, his parents, a few of our close friends, and his sister and niece were in attendance.
Before leaving town, Brian and I mailed the check my dad had issued back to him. Since then, I never heard from him again. After quitting my job at the family company, he blocked my credit cards and any chance of receiving an inheritance.
With the money I had saved up for years and with Brian’s, too, we were able to buy a small house in the suburbs. I got a job at another company, and together, we worked hard to raise our three children in a loving environment.
What can we learn from this story?
Never let money get in the way of your relationship. Jane’s dad thought getting Brian away from her would be as simple as giving her money. However, when Jane found out the truth about what her dad did, she was angrier with him than with Brian, as she knew Brian was in a difficult situation that left him with no choice but to agree to her dad’s wishes.
Always be honest with your spouse and work through life’s challenges together. When Jane found out the truth, all she wanted was for Brian to have told her the truth, to begin with. That way, they could have avoided what happened at the wedding and continued on. Ultimately, they were able to work through their issues and work together to save Maxine and start a new life together without her dad in the picture.
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Grumpy Loner Finds a Teen Trying to Jack His Car and It Ends Up Changing Both Their Lives — Story of the Day
All old Harold cared about in his remaining years were his car and his privacy, but both now seemed at risk after new Asian neighbors moved in. One night, he caught a teenage boy trying to open his car, and from that moment, his solitary life changed forever.
Harold sat on his creaky porch, the paint peeling from the wooden railing, his scowl as deep as the furrows in his weathered face.
The late afternoon sun glared down, reflecting off the hood of his 1970 Plymouth Barracuda, making its cherry-red paint glow like embers.
The car had been his pride and joy for decades, a tangible reminder of his younger, more vibrant days.
But today, Harold wasn’t basking in nostalgia. His gaze was fixed on the commotion across the street.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
His new neighbors—a bustling Asian family—were unloading boxes from a moving truck.
Kids dashed around the driveway, shrieking and laughing, while a dog yapped incessantly.
A grandmother in a wide-brimmed hat waved instructions in a language Harold didn’t understand.
“Can’t they do anything quietly?” Harold muttered, his words a growl as he took a bitter sip of his lukewarm coffee.
Needing an escape, Harold pushed himself up from the chair, wincing as his stiff knees protested.
He shuffled toward his garage, muttering under his breath about the state of the world. Starting the Barracuda, he reversed it onto the driveway with a low, throaty rumble.
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He knew the engine’s growl was loud enough to turn heads, and that’s exactly what he wanted.
As he began unwinding the hose to wash his car, a voice called out, breaking his solitude.
“Wow! Is that a ‘70 Barracuda?”
Harold turned, startled to see a skinny teenage boy standing near the curb.
The boy’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and his face was lit with the kind of awe Harold hadn’t seen in years.
“Yeah, it is,” Harold said curtly, already regretting engaging.
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“Does it have the 440 engine? A Six Pack?” the boy asked, stepping closer, his excitement bubbling over. “How’d you keep it in such good shape? I mean, it’s pristine!”
Harold grunted, turning his attention back to the car.
“It’s just maintenance,” he said flatly, hoping the boy would take the hint and leave.
But the boy, introducing himself as Ben, didn’t. He kept firing questions, his enthusiasm unrelenting.
He asked about the car’s history, its restoration, and its performance. Harold’s responses grew shorter, his patience wearing thinner with each passing second.
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“Kid, don’t you have something better to do?” Harold snapped, narrowing his eyes at the boy.
Ben hesitated, his smile fading slightly.
“I just really love classic cars,” he said softly. “My dad used to—”
“Enough!” Harold barked, turning to face him fully. “Go home and leave me alone!”
Ben’s shoulders slumped, and he muttered, “Sorry, sir,” before shuffling away.
Harold shook his head and turned back to his car, scrubbing harder than necessary.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
But as much as he tried, he couldn’t quite shake the image of the boy’s hopeful face. It lingered like a faint echo, reminding him of something he couldn’t quite name.
Harold was jolted awake by the unmistakable sound of clanging metal. It wasn’t subtle—it was the kind of noise that didn’t belong in the stillness of the night.
His eyes snapped open, and for a moment, he lay there, listening.
Then, with a groan, he reached for the baseball bat leaning against his nightstand.
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His heart pounded as he slipped on his slippers and shuffled toward the garage, the cold night air prickling his skin.
He paused at the garage door, holding his breath as he heard muffled voices and the distinct rustling of tools. Gritting his teeth, Harold flipped on the light.
“Hey! Get outta here!” he roared, his voice slicing through the chaos.
Three teenage boys froze like deer caught in headlights.
One was hunched over the steering wheel of his prized Barracuda, while another rifled through his neatly organized tools.
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The third stood near the hood, his face partially obscured by the shadow of his hoodie.
The two boys closest to the car bolted without a word, vanishing into the darkness. Harold barely noticed.
His eyes locked onto the third boy, who had slipped on an oil patch and fallen hard onto the concrete floor.
“Not so fast,” Harold growled, marching over and grabbing the boy’s arm. He hauled him to his feet, and the boy’s hood fell back, revealing a familiar face.
“Ben?” Harold’s voice was incredulous and angry all at once.
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“Please, sir,” Ben stammered, his face pale and his hands shaking. “I didn’t mean to—I was—”
“Save it,” Harold snapped, his grip firm. “You’re coming with me.”
Still clutching Ben’s arm, Harold marched him across the street and banged loudly on the door of the boy’s house.
After a moment, the door creaked open, and Ben’s parents appeared, their faces groggy and confused.
“They don’t speak much English,” Ben mumbled, his eyes glued to the floor.
“Then you’re going to tell them exactly what you did,” Harold said, his voice cold and commanding.
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Ben hesitated, then began translating, his voice trembling as he explained what had happened.
His parents’ faces fell, their expressions a mix of shame and dismay.
Bowing repeatedly, they murmured apologetic phrases in their native language, their gestures sincere.
Harold let go of Ben, pointing a finger at the boy. “Next time, I won’t hesitate to call the cops. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Ben murmured, his head bowed low.
Harold turned and stomped back to his house, his adrenaline slowly fading. He collapsed into his armchair, staring at the car keys he had left on the table.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The image of Ben’s pale, terrified face lingered in his mind, unsettling him. Somehow, his anger didn’t feel as satisfying as it should have.
The next morning, Harold was startled from his coffee by the sound of clinking metal on his porch.
Grumbling, he got up and opened the door to a surprising sight: Ben’s grandmother and mother, both balancing trays of steaming food, carefully arranging them on the steps.
“What’s all this?” Harold asked, his tone sharp.
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“Listen, I don’t need—what’s all this for?”
The women looked up at him nervously, bowing their heads slightly. Their smiles were polite but hesitant, and they didn’t say a word.
Harold waved his hands awkwardly, trying to shoo them away.
“It’s fine. You don’t need to do this,” he sputtered.
They continued their work undeterred, gesturing to the trays with small, encouraging nods. Harold sighed, stepping aside and muttering under his breath, “No one listens anymore.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
As they finished and disappeared back across the street, Ben appeared, shuffling up to the porch with his head low.
His face was flushed, and he avoided Harold’s gaze. Suddenly, he knelt down, bowing deeply.
“I’m sorry for what I did,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
Harold crossed his arms, his scowl deepening, but his voice lacked its usual edge. “Kid, get up. You don’t have to do this.”
Ben didn’t move. “Please,” he insisted. “Let me fix this.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Harold sighed heavily. “Fine. Wash the car. And don’t scratch it.”
As Harold returned inside, he eyed the trays of food warily before sitting down to pick at the unfamiliar dishes.
Through the window, he watched Ben working diligently on the Barracuda, the boy’s careful movements a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before.
After some time, Harold stepped back outside. “You did a decent job,” he admitted gruffly. “For a guy who tried to get into it last night.”
“Thanks,” Ben replied, drying his hands on a rag. He hesitated before speaking again.
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“The truth is… those guys made me do it. They said I’d be a coward if I didn’t help. They knew I know a lot about cars.”
Harold frowned. “Why didn’t you tell your parents that?”
Ben shrugged, looking down.
“It’s hard enough being new here. If I snitched, people would make fun of my sister. She’s finally starting to fit in.”
Harold studied him, his face softening.
“You’re a good kid, Ben. You just have bad taste in friends.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Ben nodded, finishing the job. As Harold watched him clean up, he surprised himself by saying, “Come on in. Let’s eat before all this food gets cold.”
Ben’s eyes widened slightly, but he smiled. “Thanks, sir.”
Harold waved him inside, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
That evening, he sat in his recliner, a cup of tea cooling on the side table. The soft hum of crickets filled the air, but a commotion outside drew his attention.
He leaned toward the window, pulling the curtain aside, and his sharp eyes spotted Ben down the street.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The boy was backed against a fence by the same two teens who had fled Harold’s garage that night.
Harold squinted, his knuckles tightening on the curtain. The taller of the two boys jabbed a finger at Ben, his voice carrying through the quiet.
“We’re not taking the fall for this! You better fix it.”
Ben’s shoulders slumped as he hesitated, then reluctantly handed over a set of keys. He pointed toward Harold’s garage, his expression filled with shame.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
The two teens grinned, their laughter cutting through the stillness as they swaggered toward the garage.
Harold’s lips pressed into a thin line as he grabbed his jacket and headed outside.
Staying hidden in the shadows, he waited until the boys disappeared inside his garage.
Then, with a deliberate stride, he approached the building, flanked by a police officer he’d called earlier.
“Evening, boys,” Harold said coolly, flipping on the garage lights.
The two teens froze, their grins vanishing as the officer stepped forward. “Hands where I can see them,” the officer commanded.
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The boys stammered, their bravado crumbling as they were cuffed and led toward the patrol car.
Ben stood nearby, watching the scene with a conflicted expression. Harold approached him, his voice steady but firm.
“You did the right thing, kid,” he said. “Criminals need to learn their lessons early. Better they fix their lives now than ruin them later.”
Ben nodded, a look of relief washing over his face. “I wasn’t sure if…” He trailed off, searching Harold’s face.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Harold patted Ben’s shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle.
“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I could use someone like you to help me with the car. You interested?”
Ben’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”
“Yeah, but don’t let it go to your head,” Harold said with a smirk.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“And maybe, if you prove yourself, this car could be yours one day.”
Ben’s grin spread wide, and for the first time in years, Harold felt a flicker of pride he thought he’d never feel again.
Together, they walked back to the house, the night quieter than it had been in years.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: “Perfect neighbor”—that was Julia’s dream title. She wanted to be a role model for other women in the community. Imagine her face when she saw her mother ride a Harley-Davidson into the driveway. Pure embarrassment nearly drove Julia to the point of kicking her mother out, but the truth stopped her.
This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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