Hours Before My Wedding, a Strange Elderly Woman Approached Me and Asked to Read My Palm

On Claire and David’s wedding day, a mysterious old woman shows up on their driveway, ready to read Claire’s palm. Claire, not believing in the practice, is skeptical… until the old woman reveals details that are too accurate to be a hoax.

The morning of my wedding was everything I’d dreamed of. It was chaotic, I was buzzing with excitement, and it was filled with love. My bridesmaids would be arriving soon, and we were planning on having a charcuterie board lunch with champagne on the side.

A charcuterie board | Source: Midjourney

A charcuterie board | Source: Midjourney

My dress was hanging in its garment bag, and I was marrying David, my best friend and the man who’d made me believe in forever. Our wedding was going to be different. David and I were getting married on a yacht at night, so really, we had the entire day to get ready for the rest of our lives…

At least, that’s what I thought.

I put on my face mask and stepped outside to meet the delivery man with my bouquet. I had wanted it to be delivered at the last minute so that it would be perfect with no wilting buds.

A woman with a face mask on | Source: Midjourney

A woman with a face mask on | Source: Midjourney

But as I walked to the driveway, waiting for the delivery truck to come, I noticed her.

She was standing near the path that cut through my front yard. An elderly woman with weathered skin, wild gray hair, and clothes that looked as though they hadn’t been washed in weeks.

And still, despite her ragged appearance, her eyes were sharp, almost piercing. There was something unsettlingly calm about her.

An old woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney

An old woman standing outside | Source: Midjourney

“Child,” she called out, her voice soft but commanding. “Come closer, Child.”

I hesitated. Every instinct told me to ignore her and go back inside, but something in her gaze made me stop. Against my better judgment, I walked toward her. Maybe she was hungry. I could make her a cup of tea and a sandwich and let her go on her way.

It was my wedding day, after all. How would I send an old woman away?

A sandwich and cup of tea on a counter | Source: Midjourney

A sandwich and cup of tea on a counter | Source: Midjourney

“Let me see your hand, Child,” she said, reaching out. “I want to read your palm. Let’s see what the lines on your palm have to say. Let’s uncover their secrets.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, forcing a smile. “But I don’t really believe in that sort of thing.”

She smiled faintly.

A woman holding her hand out | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her hand out | Source: Midjourney

“You don’t have to believe, my dear,” she said. “You just have to listen. Maybe something will resonate with you.”

Before I could protest, she reached out and gently took my hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone so frail. I should’ve pulled away, but I didn’t.

“The man you are about to marry,” she began, her voice low and deliberate as she traced one of the lines on my palm.

“Yes?” I asked.

A woman holding her arm out | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her arm out | Source: Midjourney

“He has a mark on his right thigh? A heart-shaped birthmark, yes?”

I froze. My stomach tightened. I hadn’t told anyone about David’s birthmark. How could she possibly know?

“And his mother?” she continued, her gaze unwavering. “She wasn’t part of his life, no? She’s dead now, isn’t she?”

I nodded slowly, a chill running down my spine.

A man's birthmark | Source: Midjourney

A man’s birthmark | Source: Midjourney

“How… how do you know that?”

Her expression darkened.

“Child, he’s going to ruin your life. But you still have a choice! If you want to know the truth, look inside the stuffed rabbit he keeps in his closet.”

I stumbled back, pulling my hand free.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

A stuffed rabbit toy | Source: Midjourney

A stuffed rabbit toy | Source: Midjourney

“Trust your instincts,” she said. “And remember, love built on lies will crumble.”

I was ready to turn away, but then my bouquet came. Quickly, I picked it up from the delivery man and then hurried back into the house, slamming the door behind me. My heart pounded as her words echoed in my mind.

The stuffed rabbit.

David had told me about it once, a toy his mother gave him before she died. He kept it tucked away in his closet so that he could still have a piece of her.

A woman looking concerned | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking concerned | Source: Midjourney

Quickly, I washed my face mask off and sent a text to the group my bridesmaids had created.

Running a quick errand, I’ll let you know when I’m home. Then we can celebrate!

“Okay, Claire,” I told myself. “Let’s go find a stuffed bunny.”

David was at his dad’s house getting ready. So I was alone; I could do whatever I wanted. And what I wanted was to uncover the truth.

A woman in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

Was the old woman just talking absolute nonsense, or was there more to it?

I opened David’s closet and pulled out the rabbit. Its gray fur was worn and faded, and I noticed something I hadn’t before. A small zipper on its back.

My heart raced as I unzipped it. Inside was a bundle of folded papers.

Pieces of paper on a bed | Source: Midjourney

Pieces of paper on a bed | Source: Midjourney

Son, why are you ashamed of me? Please don’t abandon me. I love you.-Mom

I stared at the words, my chest tightening. The next note was even more heartbreaking.

I’ve been calling for weeks. Why won’t you answer, David?

And then the third:

Please, let me see you just once. I need to know you’re okay.

A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

A woman reading a note | Source: Midjourney

My legs felt like jelly as I sank onto the floor. David’s mother wasn’t dead. She was alive. And she had been desperately trying to get to know him. But how had she been sending him these notes? Through the mailbox?

The realization hit me suddenly.

David had lied to me. About his mother. About something so fundamental, so deeply personal. My mind raced, trying to piece it all together. Why would he lie? Was it shame? Manipulation?

A woman sitting on the floor in a nightgown | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on the floor in a nightgown | Source: Midjourney

Or something darker?

I grabbed my phone and dialed him, my fingers shaking as they touched the screen.

“Hey, Claire,” he said, his voice light. “What’s up? No cold feet, right?”

“You need to come home,” I said. “Now.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked, concern creeping into his tone.

A woman using a phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using a phone | Source: Midjourney

“Just get here, David, please.” I hung up before he could say anything else.

When he arrived, he looked worried.

“Claire, what’s going on? We’re not supposed to see each other before the ceremony!”

His eyes darted to my face, then to the stuffed rabbit clutched in my hands.

“Explain this,” I said, holding up the notes.

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

His face went pale. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Slowly, he sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands.

“It’s complicated, Claire,” he said finally.

“Complicated? How? You told me that your mother was dead, David! You lied to me about something so huge. How is that complicated?”

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

He lifted his head, tears brimming in his eyes.

“My dad… he made me choose between them. After the divorce, he told me that she wasn’t good enough. He said that she was a mess, that she liked her beer and could only hold jobs at diners that wanted to give her a chance. He said that I’d have a better life without her. I was just a kid, Claire. I didn’t know any better.”

“And now? You’re not a kid anymore! You’ve been ignoring her since when? She’s been begging to see you. These notes are proof. Do you have any idea how cruel that is?”

A woman working at a diner | Source: Midjourney

A woman working at a diner | Source: Midjourney

“I know,” he said. “I know I messed up. I’ve been so ashamed. I didn’t know how to fix it.”

I stared at him, my heart breaking but also… defeated. Who was this man?

“You lied to me. How am I supposed to marry someone I can’t trust?”

His face crumpled.

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

“Please, Claire,” he said. “Don’t do this! I’ll make it right. I’ll go to her. I know where she lives. She’s in a couple’s outbuilding. I’ll apologize. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

I took a deep breath.

“Go find her, David. Make things right with her. Until you do, I can’t marry you.”

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

His eyes widened in panic.

“Claire…”

“No, actions speak louder than words,” I said, cutting him off. “Go.”

Hours passed, and I couldn’t focus on anything. I texted my bridesmaids group again and told them that the wedding was off. The yacht was ready, the guests were starting to arrive, and my phone buzzed incessantly with texts from my mom and bridesmaids.

A woman sitting on a couch and texting | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a couch and texting | Source: Midjourney

Please, sort it out. The wedding is canceled. I’m okay. Don’t come home, just tell the guests and make sure everyone eats before they leave the yacht. Lots of love, girls.

All I could think about was David and the woman who had appeared like a ghost to warn me.

It was nearly evening when I heard the knock at my door. I opened it to find David standing there, his face tear-streaked and his shoulders slumped.

Wedding guests on a yacht | Source: Midjourney

Wedding guests on a yacht | Source: Midjourney

But there was something else, a sense of relief, of peace.

“I found her,” he said softly. “I apologized. She forgave me.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

And then he stepped aside.

Standing behind him was the elderly woman from earlier. Her gray hair glowed in the fading light, and her eyes, those piercing, knowing eyes, were now brimming with tears.

A woman and her son | Source: Midjourney

A woman and her son | Source: Midjourney

“Claire,” David said, his voice breaking. “This is my mother.”

The weight of her words from earlier hit me. She had risked everything to warn me, to save her son from the lies that had kept them apart. And to give me the truth before it was too late.

“Thank you,” I whispered, hugging her.

She smiled.

A shocked woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Thank you for giving him the chance to find his way back.”

David and I didn’t get married that day. But in the months that followed, he worked tirelessly to rebuild his relationship with his mother. And during those months, I made sure that he got his answers from his father.

“I will not have your father in my life unless he can explain why he was so ugly to your mother. She needs love and car, David. She looks more aged and worn out than anyone her age, and don’t you think that’s because of your father? He did this to her.”

“I know,” he said, handing me a cup of tea. “But what can I do? Demand to know why he’s such a horrible person?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed.

A cup of tea on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

A cup of tea on a coffee table | Source: Midjourney

David, true to his word, did have a proper sit down with his father, and Alec came clean.

“I didn’t want you to choose your mother, David. I didn’t want you to be burdened with her issues, and if anything, I should have taken care of her. I asked for the divorce because I didn’t want that responsibility. And now what? She’s back and she looks like she needs so much care. It’s all my fault.”

David accepted what his father had to say, but I could see that their relationship would forever be strained.

Two men having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

Two men having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

And when we did finally get married, it was a small, intimate ceremony with Estelle, David’s mother, by our side.

We had taken her for medicals and gotten her treatment for her liver. We rented out a small apartment for her, because as much as she wanted to be back in David’s life, she wasn’t used to living with people.

Sometimes, love isn’t about perfect beginnings. It’s about finding your way back to the truth… and to the people who matter most.

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

My Dying MIL Called Me in Tears to Reveal a Terrible Secret That Changed Everything

When my dying mother-in-law called me late one night, I never expected her to confess a secret that would turn our lives upside down. That secret led me to a point where I had to make a difficult choice.

I’ve been married to Dawson for about ten years, and my mother-in-law never missed a chance to remind me that I wasn’t the kind of woman she wanted for her son.

A woman talking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

Colette is one of those people who believe in telling the truth, no matter how bitter it is. She doesn’t care if the truth will hurt her loved ones because she believes honesty comes first.

“I wanted Dawson to marry my friend’s daughter,” she told me one day when she came over to our place. “I always thought they’d make a great couple.”

A woman speaking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking to her daughter-in-law | Source: Midjourney

Honestly, I wanted to tell her off, but I’m not the type to disrespect anyone. I always ignored her snide remarks, and that’s the only reason our relationship survived.

A few months ago, Colette was diagnosed with cancer, and the doctors said she didn’t have much time left. Before her diagnosis, we only saw each other at family gatherings and rarely spoke otherwise.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

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.

My MIL and Husband’s Sisters Forced Me to Clean Up Alone After Easter Feast—I Agreed, but They Weren’t Ready for My ‘Surprise’

When my husband’s family decided I was their personal maid for Easter, they had no idea I’d already hidden something special alongside those chocolate bunnies. What happened next was something that still makes me laugh.

I’ve never been the type to air my dirty laundry online. Really, I’m not. But what happened this Easter was too perfect not to share.

A woman holding an egg basket | Source: Pexels

A woman holding an egg basket | Source: Pexels

My name’s Emma, I’m 35, work as a marketing director for a mid-sized firm, and I’ve been married to Carter for three wonderful years. Carter is everything I could ask for. He’s supportive, caring, funny, and actually knows how to load a dishwasher correctly.

Our life together has been pretty close to perfect, except for one glaring issue. HIS FAMILY.

“Emma, honey, could you grab me another mimosa while you’re up?” My mother-in-law Patricia’s voice carried across our backyard patio last month, though I’d barely taken two steps toward the kitchen.

She hadn’t moved from her cushioned lounge chair in over an hour.

A woman sitting in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a living room | Source: Midjourney

I’m not one of those people who complain about everything. I don’t post passive-aggressive status updates or share my grievances on social media. But Carter’s mother and his three sisters, Sophia, Melissa, and Hailey… they’re special. And by special, I mean the entitled kind.

“Of course, Patricia,” I replied with the practiced smile I’d perfected over three years of marriage.

From day one, they made it clear I wasn’t quite what they had in mind for Carter.

A man standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

They’re the sort of people who believe they’re always right, and who’ve never truly accepted me. They’re the kind who offer compliments wrapped in barbed wire.

“Oh, Emma, you’re so brave to wear something that tight,” Sophia, the eldest at 41, commented at our last family gathering, eyeing my perfectly normal dress.

Melissa, 39, never misses a chance to comment on my eating habits. “Good for you, not caring about calories,” she’d say while watching me take a single bite of dessert.

A slice of cake in a plate | Source: Pexels

A slice of cake in a plate | Source: Pexels

And then there’s Hailey, 34, who despite being younger than me, always manages to sound like a disapproving aunt. “Our family has strong traditions. Hope you can keep up.”

But this Easter? Oh, they really outdid themselves.

“Since you and Carter don’t have kids yet,” Melissa announced three weeks before Easter while her three children climbed all over my freshly cleaned furniture, “it would make sense for you to organize the Easter Egg Hunt.”

Not just hide a few plastic eggs. No.

I was supposed to create a whole event: scavenger hunt clues, costumes, and even hire a bunny mascot with my own money.

A person in a bunny costume holding a dog | Source: Pexels

A person in a bunny costume holding a dog | Source: Pexels

“It would really show you care about our family,” Sophia added, sipping her latte and adjusting her oversized sunglasses while lounging on my backyard patio.

Carter squeezed my hand under the table. “That sounds like a lot of work,” he started, but his sisters talked over him.

“It’s just what we do in this family,” Hailey shrugged, though I’d never seen her lift a finger to organize anything.

Fine. I swallowed my protests. For now.

Little did they know, I’d already started crafting a plan that would make this Easter one they’d never forget.

A woman writing in a notebook | Source: Pexels

A woman writing in a notebook | Source: Pexels

Two days before Easter, my phone pinged with a text message. Patricia had created a family group chat. Minus Carter, of course.

“Since you’re already helping, honey, it would be WONDERFUL if you just cooked Easter dinner! Carter deserves a wife who can host properly. 😘”

I stared at my phone, my blood pressure rising with each notification as Sophia, Melissa, and Hailey chimed in with their “suggestions.”

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels

What she really meant was: Cook for 25 people. A full spread: ham, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, deviled eggs, rolls, two pies, and “a lighter option for those of us watching our figure.”

Not one of them volunteered to bring even a pie.

“They want you to do what?” Carter asked when I showed him the messages. His face flushed with anger. “That’s ridiculous. I’ll talk to them.”

“No,” I said, placing my hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But Emma, that’s too much work. Let me at least order catering.”

A close-up shot of a man's face | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a man’s face | Source: Midjourney

I smiled and kissed his cheek. “I’ve got this, trust me.”

Easter Sunday arrived with perfect spring weather. I’d been up since dawn, hiding eggs for the hunt later and preparing the feast they’d demanded. By noon, our house was filled with Carter’s family. His mother, three sisters, their husbands, and children ranging from four to 12.

“Emma, this ham is a bit dry,” Patricia commented within seconds of taking her first bite.

“The potatoes need more butter,” Melissa added.

Mashed potatoes in a bowl | Source: Pexels

Mashed potatoes in a bowl | Source: Pexels

“In our family, we usually serve the gravy in a proper boat, not a measuring cup,” Sophia pointed out, though I’d used my grandmother’s antique gravy boat.

Carter started to defend me, but I caught his eye and shook my head slightly. Not yet.

They ate. They destroyed the kitchen. They let their kids run wild, smearing chocolate everywhere.

Melissa’s youngest even knocked over a vase, and no one bothered to pick up the pieces. All I heard was, “Kids will be kids!”

A broken vase | Source: Pexels

A broken vase | Source: Pexels

And then, after gorging themselves, they settled onto the couches with their wine glasses, not moving a muscle.

“Emma,” Sophia looked over her shoulder and said, “the kitchen isn’t going to clean itself.”

“Oh, honey,” Patricia added. “Now you can clean everything up. Time to show you’re real wife material.”

They smirked, settling onto the couch like pampered queens while their husbands disappeared to watch basketball in the den.

Carter stood up. “I’ll help you, Emma.”

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“No, sweetie,” I said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “You worked so hard all week. Go relax with the guys.”

The sisters exchanged satisfied glances. They thought they’d won.

I smiled. Oh, I smiled so sweetly. I clapped my hands together.

“Absolutely!” I chirped. “I’ll handle everything!”

Their smug faces relaxed as they turned back to their conversation about Sophia’s upcoming cruise. Hailey kicked her feet up on my coffee table, her shoes leaving small marks on the wood.

“Kids!” I called out cheerfully. “Who’s ready for the special Easter Egg Hunt now?”

A girl smiling | Source: Pexels

A girl smiling | Source: Pexels

Excited children came running from various corners of the house.

“But I thought we already did the egg hunt this morning,” Patricia said.

“Oh,” I said with a wink to the children. “That was just the regular hunt. Now it’s time for the Golden Egg Challenge.”

The kids squealed with excitement.

“What’s the Golden Egg Challenge?” Melissa’s ten-year-old son asked, practically bouncing with excitement.

A boy standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A boy standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

“Well,” I explained, pulling out a shimmering golden plastic egg from my pocket, “while I was setting up the regular Easter Egg Hunt this morning, I hid something extra special.”

The children gathered around me, their eyes wide with wonder at the gleaming egg in my palm.

“Inside this golden egg is a note about a VERY SPECIAL PRIZE,” I said, lowering my voice dramatically. “Much better than candy.”

“Better than candy?” Sophia’s eight-year-old daughter gasped as if I’d claimed the moon was made of cheese.

A little girl | Source: Midjourney

A little girl | Source: Midjourney

“Absolutely. It’s an ALL-EXPENSES-PAID prize!” I announced.

The kids were practically salivating now. I could feel Patricia and her daughters watching with mild interest from the couch, probably assuming I was talking about some toy or small gift card.

“The golden egg is hidden somewhere in the backyard,” I continued. “Whoever finds it wins the grand prize! Ready?”

The children bolted for the back door, nearly trampling each other to be first outside.

A child walking out of a door | Source: Midjourney

A child walking out of a door | Source: Midjourney

“That’s sweet of you, Emma,” Patricia called from the couch. “Keep them busy while we digest.”

Carter caught my eye from across the room and raised an eyebrow. I just winked.

Fifteen minutes of frantic searching later, we heard a triumphant scream from the far corner of the garden.

“I FOUND IT! I FOUND THE GOLDEN EGG!”

It was Sophia’s daughter Lily, sprinting across the lawn, waving the golden egg over her head like an Olympic torch.

Perfect. I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried.

A golden egg | Source: Pexels

A golden egg | Source: Pexels

“Congratulations, Lily!” I cheered as everyone gathered around. “Would you like to open it and read your prize?”

The eight-year-old eagerly cracked open the plastic egg and pulled out a small rolled piece of paper. Her brow furrowed as she tried to read it.

A little girl looking at a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A little girl looking at a piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

“Would you like me to read it for everyone?” I offered sweetly.

She nodded and handed me the paper.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat dramatically. “The winner of the Golden Egg receives the GRAND PRIZE: You and your family get to handle the ENTIRE Easter clean-up! Congratulations!”

For three beautiful seconds, absolute silence fell over our backyard.

Then came the uproar.

“What?” Sophia spluttered, nearly choking on her wine.

“That’s not a prize!” Melissa protested.

Lily looked confused. “I have to clean?”

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

An upset girl | Source: Midjourney

“Not just you,” I clarified cheerfully. “Your whole family gets to help! Isn’t that exciting? All the dishes, the kitchen, picking up candy wrappers… everything!”

“Emma,” Patricia started, her voice stern. “This is just a joke, right?”

“Oh no, it’s the official Golden Egg prize,” I insisted. “The kids have been so excited about it.”

And that’s when the most magnificent thing happened. All the children began chanting, “CLEAN UP! CLEAN UP!”

Carter burst out laughing, unable to contain himself any longer.

A man laughing | Source: Midjourney

A man laughing | Source: Midjourney

“This isn’t funny,” Hailey hissed.

“Actually,” Carter said, stepping beside me and wrapping an arm around my waist, “it’s hilarious.”

“We can’t expect the kids to clean,” Sophia protested, her face flushing red.

“I’m just following the rules,” I said sweetly. “Family traditions are important, right? You taught me that!”

Patricia stood up, clearly trying to regain control of the situation. “Emma, dear, this is inappropriate.”

A woman yelling | Source: Midjourney

A woman yelling | Source: Midjourney

“Is it?” I asked innocently. “More inappropriate than expecting one person to cook for and clean up after 25 people without help? More inappropriate than making snide comments about my cooking while you eat the food I prepared?”

The children were still chanting, growing louder by the second. Several of them had already started collecting trash from the yard, taking the challenge seriously.

A person collecting trash | Source: Pexels

A person collecting trash | Source: Pexels

“Mom,” Lily tugged at Sophia’s designer blouse. “We won! We have to clean up!”

Faced with their own children’s enthusiasm and the growing awkwardness of the situation, they had no choice.

“Fine,” Sophia finally muttered.

I handed her a pair of rubber gloves with a smile. “The dish soap is under the sink.”

For the next hour, I sat on the patio with my feet up, sipping a perfectly chilled mimosa, watching as Carter’s mother and sisters scrubbed dishes, wiped counters, and swept floors.

Carter joined me, clinking his glass against mine. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A man smiling | Source: Midjourney

“I learned from the best,” I replied. “Your family always says how important it is to follow traditions.”

As I watched Patricia awkwardly scrub dried gravy from my roasting pan, she caught my eye. For just a moment, there was something new in her expression. Something that looked suspiciously like respect.

Next Easter? I have a feeling they’ll be bringing potluck dishes and cleaning supplies.

A bucket of cleaning supplies | Source: Pexels

A bucket of cleaning supplies | Source: Pexels

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