Woman Thought Pretending to Be Someone’s Girlfriend at a Wedding Would Be Fun Until She Wished She Hadn’t — Story of the Day

Stuck in an elevator with a stranger was bad enough. But when Lena found out Dylan—a charming, suit-clad mystery man—needed a fake date for a wedding the next day, things got even weirder. A power outage, a bold proposition, and one tempting question: Would she really say yes to a total stranger?

Lena checked her watch for the third time in a minute. Late. Again.

She exhaled sharply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she strode down the boutique hotel’s hallway.

The air smelled of fresh lilies, their floral sharpness mixed with the faintest trace of citrus and polished wood.

It was the kind of scent that clung to weddings—the kind that brought memories of champagne toasts, aching feet in high heels, and teary speeches that went on too long.

A fitting reminder, considering her best friend had gotten married last week.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena reached the elevator and jabbed the button, as if sheer determination could speed up the machinery.

She bounced on her heels, fingers tapping anxiously against the strap of her bag.

The soft chime of the elevator arriving barely registered in her brain before she darted inside.

Just as the doors started closing, a blur of movement caught her eye. A man lunged in after her, his shoulder bumping into hers as her suitcase wobbled dangerously.

“Sorry—” he started, a breathless chuckle in his voice. He straightened, brushing an imaginary wrinkle from his crisp suit.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena barely spared him a glance. “No worries.”

And then, everything stopped.

The elevator jerked violently. The lights flickered once, twice, then steadied. The hum of movement vanished.

Lena’s stomach clenched. A thick, loaded silence filled the small space.

She pressed the button repeatedly. Nothing.

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she muttered, pressing her palm against the cool metal doors as if she could will them open.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Beside her, the man let out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall. “Classic. Always when you’re in a rush.”

Lena finally turned to him fully. Sharp blue eyes. Tousled blond hair. A suit that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover.

A Hallmark movie hero, if she’d ever seen one.

“I take it you have somewhere important to be?” he asked, his lips quirking in amusement.

“A dinner with a friend,” she muttered. “She got married last week. We planned this before I leave town.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Ah,” he nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Funny coincidence. The wedding I’m going to is tomorrow.”

Lena blinked. “Wait. You’re—”

“Dylan.” He extended a hand, palm up, as if this was the most normal introduction in the world. “Groom’s best friend. And emergency wedding date seeker.”

Before she could even process that, the intercom crackled overhead.

“Uh, folks? Seems like we’ve got a small power outage affecting the elevators. We’re working on it. Might take a bit.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena closed her eyes briefly. “Perfect.”

Dylan chuckled. “Look on the bright side. At least we’re not alone in here.”

She shot him a look. “Right. Because being stuck with a stranger is somehow better than being stuck alone.”

He shrugged, flashing a lazy grin. “Depends on the stranger, doesn’t it?”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment. The hum of hotel activity beyond the metal doors felt distant, as if they were suspended in time.

Then, out of nowhere, Dylan asked, “So, any chance you’re up for a second wedding in a week?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena turned to him slowly, brow raised. “Excuse me?”

“I need a date for the wedding.” He smirked, leaning against the wall like this was just another casual conversation.

“My ex is going to be there, and I’d rather not be the guy sitting alone at the singles table. Think of it as a fake date for a noble cause.”

Lena let out a short laugh. Was this guy serious?

“You’re really asking a total stranger to be your plus-one while we’re trapped in an elevator?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dylan shrugged, completely unbothered. “So, is it a yes or a no?”

Lena never thought she’d actually go through with it.

The whole thing had sounded ridiculous—a fake date with a man she barely knew, just to help him save face at a wedding. And yet, here she was.

She smoothed her hands down the fabric of her red dress, the one she had almost left hanging in the back of her suitcase.

It wasn’t her usual style—too bold, too eye-catching, too much.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But something about tonight made her want to be someone else, even if just for a few hours.

Dylan stood beside her, a glass of champagne in one hand, his other resting lightly on the small of her back. Steady, effortless, completely at ease. Unlike her.

She forced a polite smile as yet another guest approached, throwing curious glances her way.

Weddings were strange like that—everyone wanted to know who you were, why you were there, if your presence meant something.

Dylan, on the other hand, played the part perfectly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He leaned down, murmuring in her ear, “That woman in the blue dress has been trying to figure out if we’re engaged for the past ten minutes.”

Lena barely stopped herself from laughing. “Should I flash a fake ring just to mess with her?”

His eyes twinkled. “Tempting. But then I’d have to plan an even faker proposal.”

They moved through the ballroom like they had done this a hundred times before—his touch easy, his words charming, his smile like a safety net.

And then there was the dance.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The moment his fingers laced with hers, the moment he guided her into a slow, fluid rhythm, Lena forgot for a second that this wasn’t real.

His grip was firm but gentle, the kind that told her to trust him. The warmth of his palm against her waist sent an unfamiliar shiver down her spine.

This was pretend. She knew that. But something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—made it too easy to forget.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

As the bride and groom swayed in the center of the dance floor, Lena tilted her head up. “So, tell me,” she murmured, “what’s the deal with this ex of yours?”

Dylan took a sip of champagne, and for the first time all night, his smile flickered. Just for a second.

“Maya,” he said, rolling the name on his tongue like it was still a part of him. “We dated for a while. Things got… complicated.”

Lena raised a brow. “Complicated how?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking down to the golden liquid swirling in his glass. “She thought I wasn’t serious enough. That I didn’t have time for her.”

“And did you?”

Dylan paused, then let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe not. But I was trying.”

Before Lena could respond, someone called Dylan’s name.

She turned just in time to see her.

Maya.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena didn’t need an introduction to know exactly who she was.

Tall. Poised. Beautiful in that effortless way that made other women feel like they were trying too hard.

Her presence filled the room with a quiet kind of power—like she knew she belonged anywhere she went.

And when she reached Dylan, she hugged him.

Not a casual, polite hug. Not an awkward, we-used-to-date hug.

Something in between. Something that made Lena’s chest tighten in a way it shouldn’t have.

She wasn’t supposed to care. This wasn’t real.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

And yet, it sure as hell felt like it was.

The reception was in full swing—laughter, clinking glasses, music that vibrated through the floor—but Lena barely heard any of it.

Her fingers gripped the stem of her champagne glass a little too tightly as she watched Dylan and Maya across the room.

Too close. Too familiar. Too much. Their voices were low, their expressions unreadable. Whatever they were saying, it wasn’t for her to hear.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

And yet, she couldn’t look away.

This was supposed to be a game. A favor. A night of harmless pretending. But now, her stomach twisted, and she hated the feeling.

A shadow moved beside her. “Everything okay?”

Dylan.

Lena blinked, dragging her gaze from Maya. She forced a smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “Great. You and Maya catching up?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dylan’s frown was subtle but there. “Not really. She just wanted to check in.”

Check in. Right.

“Lena,” he started, voice softer now, careful. “You know this isn’t—”

“Not real?” she cut in, her heart hammering. “Yeah. I know.”

The words felt wrong.

She swallowed hard. She needed to leave before she made a fool of herself.

“Thanks for the night, Dylan,” she said, turning on her heel. “But I think I’m done playing pretend.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

And then, she walked away.

Lena had her bag packed before the sun had fully risen. She had spent the night convincing herself that walking away was the right choice. No messy feelings. No unnecessary complications. Just a clean break.

But as she slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped into the hotel lobby, her chest felt heavier than it should. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep. Maybe it was something else.

She headed toward the café, craving caffeine and distraction, but fate had other plans.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She turned the corner too fast, and suddenly—collision.

Hot coffee sloshed dangerously close to her dress as Dylan stumbled back, gripping his cup to stop the spill.

“Lena?” His voice was a mix of surprise and something else—something unreadable.

She cursed under her breath. Of course. Of course, she had to run into him now.

“I was just—” she started, but Dylan wasn’t buying it.

“Leaving?” His eyes locked onto hers, sharp, searching. “Without saying anything?”

Lena exhaled, torn between pride and something that felt a lot like longing. “It was just supposed to be a one-time thing, right?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dylan was silent for a beat, then let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” he admitted, voice rough. “That’s what I thought, too.” He hesitated, then took a step closer. “Until I realized I didn’t want it to end.”

Lena’s pulse stumbled. “What?”

“Last night,” he said, his voice softer now, steady, “I watched you walk away, and all I could think about was how much I didn’t want you to go.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Her heart thudded against her ribs. “Dylan—”

“I don’t care about Maya,” he cut in, his tone firm, certain. “I don’t care about anyone else. I care about you.”

Lena wanted to believe him. But doubt—fear—clawed at her. “What if this is just—”

“It’s not,” Dylan interrupted, seeing right through her hesitation. “You feel it, too. Don’t you?”

She swallowed hard.

Yes.

Yes, she did.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

So, for once, she stopped overthinking.

She stepped forward, reached up, and kissed him.

A kiss that was warm. Real. Nothing like pretending.

Dylan smiled against her lips. “Does this mean you’ll stay?”

Lena laughed softly. “Maybe. But only if you promise to stop getting us stuck in elevators.”

Dylan chuckled, his hand slipping easily around her waist. “No guarantees.”

And with that, Lena finally let herself fall.

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

An Elderly Woman Is Turned Away from Business Class until a Little Boy’s Photo Slips Out of Her Purse

A poor old woman decided to fly business class to get closer to her son. However, she faced rejection from passengers on board until they discovered her true identity.

Rhea felt self-conscious. The old woman had gotten on the first plane to leave the airport that morning, and she sat in a seat in business class where the well-to-do folks stayed.

As she entered the cabin, nobody spared her a glance, but when she located her seat and sat, eyes turned towards her. The reason was simple; she stood out like a sore thumb.

Where the other men and women present all wore fancy and expensive-looking clothes, Rhea wore her old, broken-in clothes — it was her best, but it looked drab compared to what the others were wearing.

The man next to her had his face completely buried in a newspaper when she sat down, so he did not quickly notice her. When he put down the issue, he looked to his side and winced at her appearance, then he signaled a flight attendant.

“What is this?” he asked, pointing to Rhea.

The flight attendant looked a bit mortified at the man’s tone, but after verifying the woman’s seat number, she faced the man and replied, “This passenger took a seat according to the ticket she paid for.”

The man looked like he would vomit at any minute because of Rhea’s presence, and before he even proceeded to talk, he unfolded a pristine handkerchief and used it to cover his nose. Then he said, “I don’t know what’s on her ticket, but I bought a seat in business class to get away from people like her, now it just feels like I’m in a cheap alley with homeless people.”

The altercation had gotten the attention of many in the cabin, and some seemed to be in support of the man. One plump woman bedecked from her head to her feet in jewelry piped up.

“If I wanted to fly with such riff-raff, I would buy an economy class ticket,” she said, and a murmur of agreement moved through the passengers.

The murmur quickly took on a life of its own and soon led to a squabble the attendant tried to quell, but the rich folks would not hear of it — the woman had to go.

“Can’t you see she doesn’t belong here?” one man said.

“Is this how low this airline has fallen? How can such a person afford the bill?” another asked.

“We want her gone and we want a formal apology for allowing us to come into contact with such filth,” the man beside Rhea said.

He and a few other passengers were on their feet and refused to sit until they got what they wanted. Rhea sat there, listening to them arguing and trampling all over her dignity.

“I’m okay, this too shall pass,” she kept repeating under her breath like a mantra.

Still, she heard how they spoke of her, and it hurt her very deeply that people could be so cruel. Before she knew it, sad tears cascaded down her slightly wrinkled cheeks.

“Perhaps I’ll just leave,” Rhea thought, then started to gather her things with shaky hands.

As she stood up to go, she stumbled, and rather than catch her as instinct should have made him, the man beside her flinched away as if to avoid getting splattered with mud.

Rhea fell to her knees and inadvertently spilled the contents of her purse. She started to collect her things with trembling hands, knowing she was the focus of everyone in the cabin.

An expensively dressed old lady who had been sleeping peacefully until the ruckus woke her got up from her seat and also went down on her knees to help Rhea.

At that, the cabin went silent, and the passengers stared dumbfounded as one of them treated Rhea like a human. The first thing the woman picked up was a passport photograph of a little boy.

“Thank you very much,” Rhea whispered as she collected it from her.

“This is my son,” she said with a teary smile, still on her knees. “He is the pilot of this plane.”

“He must have grown up to become a handsome young man,” the rich old woman said.

“How could I know? I had to give him up for adoption when he was just five because I had no means to take care of him.” As she spoke, tears fell from her eyes, and the cabin remained silent.

“I’ve been looking for him for years but I’ve not been able to find him. Recently, I found out he became a pilot so I started to go from airport to airport looking for him. Today I found him but the only way I could get close to him was by boarding this flight.”

Rhea looked up at the people around, most of whom averted their eyes shamefully, then she continued.

“I’m sorry for making you all feel uncomfortable but I just wanted to be as close to my son as possible which is why I saved up my money to get this chance. The business class is closer to him and I’ve never flown before so I thought it would make a great birthday gift for myself.”

The passengers listened to her story, and by the time she stopped talking, many were crying. Rhea got up eventually and went with the flight attendants, who were hell-bent on introducing her to her son.

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?” she asked, resisting their urging. “What if he hates me for abandoning him?” Before the flight attendant could speak, the man who had been against her sitting beside him beat her to it.

“You had no choice, I believe he will understand that,” he said before quickly diving behind his newspaper again. He was also ashamed. Rhea left with the flight attendant to finally meet her son.

After some time, a man’s voice was heard on the plane. “This is the captain speaking… there is a special person flying on this plane — my mom, and it’s her birthday today.”

Everyone applauded the old lady, and those who had ridiculed her before apologized for their mistake. When the plane landed, the pilot, whose name was Joseph, met up with his mother, and finally, after many years of estrangement, Rhea held her son again.

What did we learn from this story?

Choose to be kind. When the man beside Rhea started to clamor for her to leave the cabin, others joined in, and even though the woman had done nothing, they may have succeeded in making her leave. The only person who did not do what they did was another old woman. She stood up for Rhea even though she could easily have just joined the haughty passengers, and her decision changed everything.
Never give up. Rhea looked for her son for years but could not locate him; however, that did not stop her. She kept looking, and she was ready to do anything to meet him, including saving up her hard-earned money for an expensive business class flight. Her perseverance and sacrifices were rewarded in the end, and she was able to meet him.
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