
After six months of dating, Chris proposes to Beth. His enthusiastic family runs with the wedding planning — only to include unorthodox items on the program, causing Beth to leave her wedding.
For my 25th birthday this year, my boyfriend, Chris, whisked me off to Hawaii.
It was a fairytale because we had only been dating for six months, and I wasn’t expecting anything. But then, Chris proposed to me on the beach — I said yes, swept away by the enchantment of the moment, although I knew that six months of knowing someone was not enough before marrying them.
Little did I know that fairytale was about to unravel into more drama than I had signed up for.

Beach proposal | Source: Pexels
I wasn’t one of those girls who spent hours dreaming up their wedding. So when Chris’s family, fueled by their eagerness and involvement, took complete control over every detail of the wedding, even offering to foot the bill — I allowed it.
I’ll admit that there were moments when I felt sidelined, especially when I said that shades of blue for the color scheme weren’t my cup of tea.
But contributing to their enthusiasm was the better option than fighting with them.
Then, the big day arrived, and I was completely calm about everything — knowing that Chris’s Mom and sister had sorted everything out. I wasn’t close to my family, so other than my father, they didn’t play any big roles.

Blue wedding decor | Source: Pexels
“Beth,” his Mom, Leeanne, said, fixing my hair. “I want you to walk down the aisle with your eyes closed.”
“What? Why?” I exclaimed, already thinking about tripping over something while walking.
“I can barely walk properly in these heels with my eyes open,” I chuckled.
“It’s just tradition,” Leeanne said. “I did it, too. The whole thing is about seeing your husband first — the first thing out of the darkness.”
“He’s supposed to be the light,” Chris’s sister, Maggie, giggled.
The whole thing sounded strange. It wasn’t anything I had heard of before, but I also knew that people always came up with superstitions and stories.
“I wouldn’t have to wear a blindfold and mess up my make-up, right?” I asked.
“No, just close your eyes and hold onto your father’s hand tightly,” Leeanne said.
When I told my Dad what I needed to do, he laughed, thinking I was joking.

Pair of glittery Jimmy Choo heels | Source: Unsplash
It was absurd, of course. But my wedding only got worse from there.
At the altar, I opened my eyes, expecting the loving gaze of my fiancé, but I got way more than I bargained for.
Chris smiled at me, and after a second, another sight sent shockwaves through me — a woman in a white dress stood behind him.
I couldn’t tell whether he knew she was there from his expression. I wondered who she was, but the murmurs around me revealed her identity — Julia, Chris’s first wife.
“Chris, what’s happening?” I whispered, pointing to Julia. My voice was barely audible amidst the collective gasps.

Woman standing in white dress | Source: Pexels
But before either Chris or I could process this bizarre twist in the ceremony, Leeanne walked down the aisle, holding onto a little boy’s hand. Every face turned to look toward them.
Then, Julia stepped forward and held her arms open for the boy, ready for him to walk in.
“This is Eli,” she said, looking at me. “He’s six years old, and he is autistic. He’s the best part of me, but he’s also part of Chris. Elizabeth, this is our son.”
“But he wouldn’t tell you that,” Maggie chimed in from next to me — she was one of my bridesmaids.
“Did you know about Eli?” Maggie asked.

Boy covering his face | Source: Pexels
I shook my head. The air had become dense with emotion. The crowd’s eyes were on me, but my gaze was fixed on Chris, desperate for an explanation, an excuse, a denial, anything.
But there was none. Instead, he fingered his watch nervously, guilt undeniable on his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded, my voice shaking.
“I didn’t know how,” he stammered, avoiding eye contact.
I turned to look at Eli, who was holding tightly onto Julia’s hand and looking around the room. I could clearly see Chris’s features all over his face.
“You let me believe that your divorce was admirable and that there were no ties to Julia,” I said. “But you abandoned your family. You abandoned your son.”
“He abandoned Eli when he found out that he was autistic,” Maggie said loudly.
My heart sank. How could I have almost married a man who was so thoughtless and cold? He left his son behind because of something that he was born with.
As the truth unfolded, I felt I was drowning in the weight of everything. Leeanne, upon discovering that Chris wanted to remarry, had orchestrated this dramatic revelation.

Man holding his tie | Source: Pexels
“You’re too young, Elizabeth,” she said. “You’re too young to be caught up in his mess. He couldn’t care for Julia, so she cared for herself and Eli. Chris has disappointed me in many ways, but nothing will make up for the neglect of his own child.”
It turned out that my wedding was just a harsh, public lesson aimed at a man who had turned his back on his responsibilities.
I kicked off my heels, handed them to Maggie, and walked away from the altar — not as a bride but as a woman who had narrowly escaped a life bound to deceit.
The experience was painful — sure, it had only been six months of knowing Chris, but I knew what I had felt for him was real. That’s why it hurt so much when I found out the truth.

People holding passports | Source: Pexels
In the aftermath, I took time to focus on myself. I decided I needed to travel and live life while still young. I needed more bad romances and horrible dates before figuring out who I wanted to be with.
I just knew one thing for sure — I didn’t want to be with someone like Chris. A man who lied about having a son — a son that was rendered invisible to him because he was autistic.
I’m just grateful that the only thing I had to pay for was my wedding dress — which had been returned three days after the so-called wedding.
Even now, when I think about the entire episode, I admit I’m not mad about it all. Leeanne did what she needed to do. And she did it to protect me and that sweet little boy.

Little boy with red hair | Source: Pexels
Has anything unreal happened to you?
Here’s another story for you | Fred is about to get married to Julia when five other women dressed as brides show up and spoil his plans. Julia loves him, and Fred is very convincing. Even after the can of worms is forcefully opened, Julia can’t help but wonder if he is a changed man.
I SPENT MY PROM DRESS MONEY TO HELP A HOMELESS MAN — THE NEXT DAY, HE SHOWED UP AT PROM WITH A LUXURY GIFT

The worn vinyl of the bus seat creaked beneath me as I clutched the envelope, its crisp edges softened by the warmth of my hand. Inside, the money my mom and grandma had painstakingly saved—my prom dress fund. The pink, shimmering gown that would transform me, even for one night, into the princess I’d always dreamed of being.
The bus rattled along, the familiar rhythm a comforting backdrop to my anticipation. At the next stop, the doors hissed open, and two figures boarded, their presence immediately shifting the atmosphere. They weren’t passengers; they were enforcers, their uniforms a stark contrast to the everyday clothes of the other riders.
Their attention fell upon an elderly man, his clothes tattered and his face etched with worry. He sat hunched in a corner seat, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. The enforcers approached him, their voices sharp and demanding.
“Ticket, sir,” one of them barked.
The man’s hands trembled as he fumbled in his pockets, his eyes wide with a desperate plea. “Please, I… I don’t have one. I’m trying to get to my daughter. She’s sick, and I have to take her to the hospital. Please, I’m begging you.”
The enforcers were unmoved. “Fine,” one of them stated, his voice flat. “You’ll have to pay a fine.”
The man’s shoulders slumped. The despair in his eyes was a physical weight, a crushing burden that filled the bus. I couldn’t bear it. The thought of my own mother, sick and helpless, flashed through my mind. What if she needed help, and no one cared?
Without a second thought, I stood up, my heart pounding in my chest. I took a deep breath, the crisp air filling my lungs with a sudden rush of determination. “I’ll pay his fine!” I declared, extending the envelope towards the enforcers.
The bus fell silent. The enforcers exchanged surprised glances, then looked at me, then at the man. I didn’t waver. I knew, deep down, that this was the right thing to do. Some things were more important than a dress, even a dream dress.
The enforcers, after a moment of hesitation, accepted the money. The elderly man’s eyes filled with tears, and he rushed towards me, his voice choked with gratitude. “Thank you, thank you, child. You’ve saved my daughter’s life.”
He thanked me over and over, his voice a trembling whisper, before hurrying off the bus, his urgency palpable. I watched him go, a strange mix of relief and a tiny pang of sadness swirling within me.
The next day, prom was a whirlwind of glitter and laughter. I wore a simple dress borrowed from a friend, feeling a little out of place but strangely content. I’d told my mom and grandma what happened, and they’d hugged me, their eyes filled with pride.
As the music swelled, and couples swayed on the dance floor, a commotion erupted near the entrance. I turned to see what was happening, and my breath caught in my throat.
Standing there, amidst the sea of shimmering gowns and tailored suits, was the elderly man from the bus, his face beaming. Beside him stood a young woman, her face pale but her eyes bright. And in his hands, he held a large, velvet-wrapped box.
He walked towards me, his steps slow but steady. “My dear child,” he said, his voice ringing with warmth. “I wanted to thank you properly. You saved my daughter, and I can never repay you. But I hope this small token will express my gratitude.”
He presented the box to me. I opened it, my fingers trembling. Inside, nestled on a bed of satin, was a dress. Not just any dress, but a masterpiece. It was pink, shimmering, and exquisitely crafted. It was the dress of my dreams, even more beautiful than I had imagined.
“My daughter,” the man explained, his eyes filled with tears, “she’s a seamstress. She made this for you, with all her heart.”
I was speechless, tears welling up in my eyes. The dress was perfect, a symbol of the kindness I had shown and the kindness I had received in return. That night, I didn’t just feel like a princess. I felt like a hero, and I knew that some things, some moments, were worth more than all the dresses in the world.
Leave a Reply