I thought faking a fiancé would finally let me step out of my sister’s shadow. But in the middle of my own scheme, I discovered that true love had been closer than I’d ever realized.
The moment I opened Mom’s letter, I felt a familiar wave of dread wash over me. The whole family was gathering for Christmas, including my sister Megan and her new boyfriend. Perfect Megan, with her perfect life.
I could already picture her—radiant, accomplished, with some dazzling guy by her side while I just sat there, blending into the background as usual.
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An idea hit me out of nowhere.
What if I show up with a fiancé of my own?
I looked around the office, and my gaze landed on Zach by the printer. He was organizing files. Reliable, responsible, and… not exactly “Prince Charming,” but he could work. And more importantly, he worked for me.
“Hey, Zach,” I called, strolling over casually.
He looked up. “Yes, Claire?”
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“Would you be interested in a, um, side project over the holidays?”
He raised an eyebrow. “A side project?”
“Yes, but more… personal,” I said, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. “It’s just a quick thing with my family. I need someone to… play a role.”
“A role? What kind of role?”
“My fiancé,” I replied, letting the word drop with a casual shrug.
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“Your… fiancé?” He looked like he’d misheard me.
“Yes, just for Christmas.” I grinned, hoping I looked more confident than I felt. “It’d be helping me out. My family is a little… competitive about relationships.”
He stared at me. “I don’t know, Claire… that seems… unusual.”
I leaned in, lowering my voice. “Think of it as an opportunity, Zach. It could be good for your career. You know, help things along.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, God, Claire. If it’s just for the holiday…”
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“Yes!” I clasped my hands together a bit too eagerly. “Just one holiday.”
“Fine. I’ll do it. But only this once.”
“Perfect,” I said, unable to hide my excitement. “All you need to do is show up, look convincing, and smile.”
***
As Zach and I walked up the long, winding path to my mom’s grand house, I clung tighter to his arm. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, yet my heart sank when I spotted Megan.
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She sat on the plush couch next to her boyfriend, Jason, laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world. Her hair was perfectly styled, her smile dazzling. She looked up, eyes glinting when she saw us.
“Well, well,” she drawled, standing up and sauntering over. “Claire! And… who’s this handsome man?” Her eyes swept over Zach with suspicion.
“This is Zach,” I said. “My boyfriend.”
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“Boyfriend, huh? Oh my, Claire, where did you find someone so… perfect?” She let the word linger, clearly enjoying the hint of doubt in her voice.
“Work. We met at work. He’s great, actually.”
Zach nodded, giving Megan a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Megan.”
Megan’s gaze lingered on us for a moment longer before she returned to Jason, whispering something in his ear that made him chuckle.
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My cheeks burned. I could tell she wasn’t buying our act for a second.
Later, while Zach was chatting with my dad, I overheard Megan and Jason talking in the hallway. I stopped, straining to listen.
“Can you believe it?” Megan was saying with a laugh. “Mom said she’d leave her inheritance to the first one of us who got married! Guess that means Claire and her ‘boyfriend’ are in a bit of a rush.”
Jason laughed softly. “You don’t think she’d actually…”
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“Oh, she’ll try, alright,” Megan replied. “But it’s Claire. She always falls short.”
So, Mom is turning our lives into some twisted race to the altar? Fine. If marriage is what Mom wants, then I’m ready to give her exactly that.
Later that evening, I dragged Zach to a small shop nearby and picked out the cheapest engagement ring I could find.
Holding it up, I said, “Tomorrow, at dinner, you’ll propose.”
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Zach’s eyes went wide. “Claire, are you serious?”
“Yes. It has to be done. You’ll understand soon.”
***
The Christmas dinner table was set to perfection. Crystal glasses sparkled under the warm lights, and holiday decorations framed every inch of the room. I glanced at Zach, who caught my gaze and gave me a small, frightened smile.
Then came the moment we’d practiced for, rehearsed like actors preparing for the role of a lifetime. I could only hope he’d remember his lines.
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“Everyone,” Zach said, clearing his throat as he stood up, his face pale but resolute. “I have something important to say.”
The room fell silent. My mother’s eyes lit up, practically sparkling. Megan raised an eyebrow, barely able to contain her smirk, and I could see Jason nudging her with an amused grin.
“Claire,” Zach began, turning toward me.
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I watched as he slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers grazing the cheap ring that we’d picked out together in that cramped jewelry store. My heart pounded so loudly that I was sure everyone could hear it.
“I never thought,” he began, glancing around the table, “that I’d find someone like Claire. She’s… well, she’s one of the most passionate people I know.”
He paused, and I saw something flicker in his eyes—maybe nerves or maybe something else.
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My mother clasped her hands with excitement. Megan smirked, folding her arms, clearly enjoying the performance. I forced myself to breathe, gripping my napkin so tightly my knuckles turned white.
Zach continued, “She pushes me to be better every day. And I realized… well, I realized that I couldn’t imagine my life without her.”
His voice softened, almost genuine, and for a moment, I felt the room fade as he looked at me. I nearly forgot we were pretending. Nearly.
“Will you marry me?”
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“Yes!” I clapped my hands together, throwing on the biggest smile I could muster. “Oh, I… I can’t believe it!” I gushed, practically shoving my hand out so he could slide the ring onto my trembling finger.
As he slipped the ring on, I was praying no one noticed the rush of desperation beneath it all.
“Oh, Claire, sweetheart!” Mom cried, practically bouncing in her seat. “This is just… wonderful! I’m so happy for you both!”
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As I tried to force a laugh, I could feel Megan’s eyes boring into me. But I was determined to play this role to the end, whatever it took.
“Oh, Claire, darling,” Mom continued. “You know, I’ve been saving something very special for this day.”
She hurried out of the room, her heels clicking with excitement. A few minutes later, she returned, carrying a box wrapped in delicate silk.
“This was my wedding dress,” she said, her eyes misty with nostalgia as she opened the box. “I saved it, hoping one day I could give it to one of my daughters. And now… it’s yours.”
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Mom’s joy, Zach’s quiet resignation, and Megan’s smirk—it was too much. I forced a smile, trying to keep my hands from shaking. “Oh, Mom, I… I don’t know what to say. This is… so generous.”
“Tomorrow,” Mom said, beaming, “we’ll have the ceremony. I’ve already called the family priest.”
Beside me, I felt Zach go rigid. His face was drained of color, and my own heart pounded with panic.
What have I done?
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***
The next day, just before I slipped into the wedding dress, Megan sidled up to me. She leaned in, her voice low and mocking.
“You know, I made up that whole inheritance story, right? Just to see what you’d do.”
“What?” I whispered, barely able to believe it.
She shrugged, feigning innocence. “I knew you’d overhear. I just didn’t think you’d actually fall for it this hard.”
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My face burned with anger and embarrassment. Megan tricked me, and I walked right into it. I was left with a choice: go through with that charade or run out and face the humiliation.
As I stepped up to the altar, dressed in my mother’s gown, the weight of it all hit me. The cheap ring on my finger felt heavy, like a reminder of every lie I’d told.
I looked over at Zach, who stood beside me, clearly trying to hold it together for my sake.
But is this how I want to spend this day for the sake of a ridiculous rivalry?
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In that final second, something in me snapped. I couldn’t do it. I pulled up my dress and bolted down the aisle, the fabric billowing behind me like a parachute. I didn’t look back, didn’t stop to see the stunned faces of my family or hear Megan’s laughter or… or… or see Zack’s eyes.
I just ran.
When I finally got home, reality crashed down like a wave. I let my jealousy, my need to prove myself, push me to this.
And now? Now, I have a cheap ring, a fake fiancé, and a sinking feeling of shame.
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***
Back at work, I went straight to my office, eager to start the day and hoping to shake off the embarrassment from the holiday disaster. But as I walked in, Zach’s desk was empty.
Puzzled, I glanced around, half-expecting him to walk through the door at any moment. Instead, I noticed a folded piece of paper on my desk, my name scrawled in Zach’s familiar handwriting.
My heart sank as I unfolded the note. It read:
“Claire, I’m sorry for leaving like this, but I think it’s for the best. I didn’t agree to be your fiancé for the promotion or because of the pressure. I did it because I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I wish things had been different, and I hope you find what you’re really looking for.”
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I hadn’t realized how blind I’d been to his real feelings. I sat there, realizing I’d just lost someone who genuinely cared.
Without a second thought, I grabbed my coat and headed out. I found Zach’s address in his employee file and drove to his apartment, determined to make things right.
***
When I arrived, the doctor let me in. Zach was sitting beside an elderly woman on the couch, holding her hand gently. She looked frail. She was probably his mom.
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As I took in the scene, everything clicked into place. He needed the income to help her.
I stepped forward.
“Zach, I had no idea… I’m so sorry for everything. I never considered what you were going through.”
Zach looked up, surprised but calm. “It’s alright, Claire. I didn’t expect you to understand.”
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I swallowed, feeling a surge of regret. “Let me help. With her medical bills, I mean. Please.”
After a long pause, he nodded. We sat together, talking about everything that had happened, the absurdity of our pretend engagement, and the misunderstandings that had piled up between us.
“You know… if you’re still interested, I’d like to go on a real date with you,” I finally confessed.
Zach smiled, and I felt my heart lighten. This time, there was no pretending.
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Woman Spent Her Life Living for Others Until a Terrifying Diagnosis Changed Everything – Story of the Day
Sarah’s life has always revolved around her family, but a devastating call from the hospital forced her to confront everything she had put on hold. As she rediscovers herself and begins living on her terms, a surprising twist changes everything, leading her to see life completely differently.
That day started just like so many others before it. Sarah’s alarm rang at 5:40 A.M., pulling her from a restless sleep. She lay still, staring at the ceiling, before swinging her legs out of bed.
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She dressed quickly and shuffled downstairs, her slippers softly brushing against the hardwood floor.
In the kitchen, she scooped food into Bella’s bowl, the golden retriever wagging her tail eagerly.
“Morning, girl,” Sarah murmured, attaching Bella’s leash and stepping outside for a quick walk in the dim light.
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As they returned, Sarah thought of Mark and Ellie’s enthusiastic promises to care for Bella when they’d begged to adopt her. Those promises had faded quickly.
Back inside, Sarah methodically set the table for breakfast, placing bowls and plates in their usual spots.
She began ironing clothes, her mind already planning the rest of the day. After folding the laundry and quickly wiping the bathroom she hadn’t completed last night, she heard the alarms blaring upstairs.
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Heading up, Sarah knocked on each door, calling gently, “Time to get up!” Ten minutes later, she repeated the process, her tone firmer.
She returned to the kitchen where she scrambled eggs and poured juice, setting the finished breakfast on the table as the family trickled in.
They ate quickly, Robert glancing at his phone, Mark and Ellie bickering over whose turn it was to sit closest to Bella.
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Robert left first, giving Sarah a distracted peck on the cheek. She herded the kids into the car, enduring Ellie’s complaints about being late and Mark’s insistence he couldn’t find his cleats.
Finally, after dropping them off, Sarah leaned back in the driver’s seat and exhaled deeply. Her eyes drifted to the calendar on the dashboard.
A soccer game for Mark. Tutoring for Ellie. Another endless day stretched ahead, and already her body ached with exhaustion.
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Suddenly, Sarah’s phone buzzed, startling her as she sat in the car. She hesitated before answering, her heart pounding. “Hello?” she said, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“This is Dr. Bennett from the hospital,” the voice on the other end began. Sarah’s stomach sank.
“We have your test results. I’m afraid it’s not good news. Your condition is serious, and unfortunately, treatment will no longer be effective.”
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Her breath hitched. “What… what does that mean?” she whispered, panic creeping into her voice.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said gently. “You likely have less than a year. Perhaps only a few months.”
The phone slipped from her hand onto the passenger seat. Tears streamed down her face as the weight of the news crushed her.
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She thought: I’ve spent my whole life for them… but what about me?
When Sarah pulled into the driveway, she sat in the car for a while, staring at the garage.
Her thoughts raced as the weight of the morning’s news settled heavily on her chest.
Finally, she stepped out, opened the garage door, and was greeted by the smell of dust and forgotten memories.
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She dug through old boxes until she found them—her canvases, brushes, and paints.
Her hands trembled as she touched the faded materials, her mind flashing back to the dreams she once held so tightly.
Life had swept her away, one responsibility after another: marriage, kids, and an endless to-do list.
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Her dream of becoming an artist had been buried under it all. She sighed deeply and carried the supplies into the house.
Inside, chaos greeted her—dishes piled high, shoes scattered, and Bella’s leash abandoned on the floor.
Instinctively, Sarah began tidying, but as she passed the hallway mirror, her reflection stopped her in her tracks.
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Her tired eyes, wrinkled shirt, and unkempt hair reflected someone she no longer recognized.
Enough was enough. Sarah opened her phone, booked a salon appointment for the next day, and vowed: If I only have a few months left, I’ll live them for me.
That afternoon, she started clearing the garage. It would become her studio, her space to reclaim herself.
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When the kids returned home, Sarah sat on the couch, flipping through a book. She didn’t look up when Mark entered the room.
“Mom, why didn’t you come to my game?” Mark asked, frowning.
Ellie followed, crossing her arms. “And you were supposed to drive me to my tutor. I had to go by myself!”
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Sarah turned a page. “I took the day off. You’re both old enough to figure things out on your own.”
Mark’s stomach growled. “Well, what’s for dinner? I’m starving.”
“I don’t know. Make something and tell me when it’s ready,” Sarah said, her tone flat.
“Mom!” Mark and Ellie shouted together.
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“What now?” Sarah snapped, closing her book. “Every day, I cook, clean, and take care of you. Do you ever say thank you?”
The kids fell silent. Ellie glanced at Mark, then muttered, “Fine, I’ll make mac and cheese.”
“Good. Make enough for your dad too. He’ll be home soon.”
When Robert arrived, the kids bombarded him with complaints. He found Sarah in the living room.
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“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
“I’m tired, Robert. I’m not your nanny or the kids’ servant,” she said.
He sighed. “Alright, I get it. Take a break,” he said, kissing her forehead.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains, but Sarah stayed in bed. She only stirred when Robert’s frustrated shouts broke the silence.
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“I’m going to be late!” he yelled, rushing around. Sarah heard him knocking on the kids’ doors, their groggy complaints echoing upstairs.
She stretched slowly, got up, and went downstairs. The kitchen was cluttered with dishes and crumbs from last night, but Sarah walked past it. She brewed coffee and sat quietly, sipping it.
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As the family came downstairs, their eyes widened at the empty table.
“Where’s breakfast?” Ellie demanded, scanning the counter.
“And lunch for school?” Mark added, looking confused.
Robert joined them, frowning. “Didn’t you make anything for work either?”
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Sarah sipped her coffee and set it down. “If you want breakfast, wake up earlier and make it yourself.”
“What’s that smell?” Mark asked, wrinkling his nose.
“Bella peed in the kitchen,” Sarah replied, her tone flat.
“Mom! Why didn’t you take her out?” Ellie cried.
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“You wanted a dog. You promised to care for her. That’s not my job,” Sarah said, leaning back in her chair.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ellie shouted. “We’re already late! Drive us to school!”
“You’re going with Dad today,” Sarah simply said.
Robert groaned, pulling out his car keys. “I’m already late for work.”
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“I have a salon appointment. I can’t take them,” Sarah said, standing.
Robert walked over, lowering his voice. “Sarah, this isn’t fair. I can’t manage everything alone.”
Sarah crossed her arms. “I’ve done everything for years. I can’t keep living like this. What if I died soon? You’d all figure it out.”
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“What are you talking about?” Robert asked, startled. “You’re fine.”
Sarah looked away, her voice soft. “I don’t feel fine anymore.”
Robert paused, then nodded. “I’ll talk to the kids. We’ll fix this.” He kissed her forehead and left with them.
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Later that night, Robert sat the kids down in the living room, his tone serious. “We need to talk about helping your mom,” he began. Ellie crossed her arms, and Mark slouched into the couch. “She’s done everything for us for years. Now it’s our turn to pitch in.”
Ellie frowned. “But I’m already so busy with school.”
Mark groaned. “This isn’t fair. Why can’t things just stay the same?”
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Tears and arguments followed, but the kids grudgingly agreed to try. The first week was chaos.
Dirty socks and papers littered the house. Bella’s leash often sat untouched, leading to more accidents.
Dinner consisted of burnt toast or hastily made sandwiches, and the kids squabbled constantly over chores. Robert, exhausted from work, struggled to wash dishes and keep order.
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Sarah, however, felt a weight lifted. She attended a painting class, where her passion reignited.
She smiled for the first time in years as she held a brush. After one of her frequent salon visits, she looked in the mirror and saw a confident and alive version of herself.
She started wearing her favorite clothes again, meeting friends for coffee, and hiking on weekends.
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Though she still helped here and there, Sarah left most of the responsibilities to the family. Over time, they adjusted, learning to share the load.
One evening, Robert surprised Sarah with dinner plans. She wore her favorite dress, and he picked the restaurant where they had their first date.
“I can’t remember the last time we went out like this, just the two of us,” Sarah said, her voice quiet but warm.
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“Me neither. It feels like a different lifetime,” Robert replied, reaching for her hand. “Listen, I’m sorry for putting so much on you. I didn’t realize how hard it was until you stopped doing everything. I promise you’ll never have to carry that burden again.”
Sarah smiled, but the smile quickly faded. Tears welled up in her eyes. She knew it was time to tell him about her diagnosis, about the months she might have left.
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“Robert, I—” she began, her voice breaking.
He interrupted with a grin. “Wait! I bought us tickets to Italy. Two weeks. We’ll leave in a month and a half. Mark and Ellie will stay with my parents. You’ve always wanted to go.”
Sarah nodded, grateful but heartbroken. “That’s… wonderful. But I need to tell you something.”
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Her phone buzzed, breaking the moment. “Sorry, I’ll just be a moment,” she said, stepping away.
It was the hospital again. The voice on the line was calm but apologetic. “We are so sorry. There was a mistake with your test results. Your diagnosis was incorrect. You’re perfectly healthy. The symptoms you experienced were due to stress and exhaustion.”
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Sarah froze, her hand gripping the phone tightly. Tears streamed down her cheeks, this time from overwhelming relief. “Are you sure?” she whispered, her voice shaking.
“Yes, absolutely. We deeply regret the error,” the caller said.
Sarah took a deep breath, wiping her eyes. “Thank you. Actually… you saved my life.”
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She hung up and walked back to Robert, her emotions raw. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around him.
“Sarah? What’s wrong? What did you need to tell me?” he asked concerned.
She pulled back just enough to look at him. Her voice was steady, filled with love. “Nothing. I just wanted to say I love you.” She kissed him, holding him close, her heart lighter than it had been in months.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I dreamed of working in fashion, but on my first day, I faced whispers, judgment, and a boss who saw my size, not my talent. They didn’t believe I belonged—but I had a plan. When the runway lights came on, I knew it was my chance to prove them all wrong.
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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