I Married My Father’s Friend – I Was Stunned When I Saw What He Started Doing on Our Wedding Night

Amber had given up on love but sparks fly when she meets her father’s old friend, Steve, at a BBQ. As their whirlwind romance leads to marriage, everything seems perfect. But on their wedding night, Amber discovers Steve has an unsettling secret that changes everything.

I pulled up to my parents’ house and stared at the line of cars parked across the lawn.

“What’s this all about?” I muttered, already bracing myself for whatever family surprise was waiting inside.

A woman in her car | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her car | Source: Midjourney

I grabbed my purse, locked the car, and headed toward the house, hoping it was nothing too chaotic.

As soon as I opened the door, the smell of grilled meat hit me, along with the sound of my dad’s booming laugh. I walked into the living room and peeked out the back window.

Of course, Dad was hosting some kind of impromptu BBQ. The whole backyard was filled with people, most of them from his auto repair shop.

People at a BBQ | Source: Pexels

People at a BBQ | Source: Pexels

“Amber!” Dad’s voice cut through my thoughts as he flipped a burger with that same apron he’s had for years. “C’mon, grab a drink and join us. It’s just the guys from work.”

I tried not to groan. “Looks like the whole town’s here,” I mumbled, slipping off my shoes.

Before I could join in the familiar, chaotic atmosphere, the doorbell rang. Dad tossed the spatula down and wiped his hands on his apron.

A man walking into a house | Source: Midjourney

A man walking into a house | Source: Midjourney

“That must be Steve,” he said, almost to himself. He glanced at me as he reached for the doorknob. “You haven’t met him yet, right?”

Before I could even answer, Dad had already flung the door open.

“Steve!” he boomed, giving the guy a solid clap on the back. “Come on in, you’re just in time. Oh, and meet my daughter, Amber.”

I looked up, and my heart skipped a beat.

A man standing on a doorstep | Source: Midjourney

A man standing on a doorstep | Source: Midjourney

Steve was tall and a little rough around the edges in a ruggedly handsome way, with graying hair and eyes that somehow managed to be both warm and deep. He smiled at me, and I felt this strange flutter in my chest that I wasn’t prepared for.

“Nice to meet you, Amber,” he said, offering his hand.

His voice was calm and steady. I shook his hand, a little self-conscious about how I must look after driving for hours.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

A woman | Source: Midjourney

A woman | Source: Midjourney

From that point on, I couldn’t stop glancing at him. He was the kind of man who made everyone around him comfortable, always listening more than talking. I tried to focus on the conversations around me, but every time our eyes met, I felt this pull.

It was ridiculous. I hadn’t even been thinking about love or relationships for ages. Not after everything I’d been through.

I’d pretty much given up on finding “the one” and was more focused on work and family. But something about Steve made me want to reconsider, even though I wasn’t ready to admit it.

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

As the day wound down, I finally said my goodbyes and headed to my car. Of course, when I tried to start it, the engine sputtered and died.

“Great,” I groaned, slumping back in my seat. I considered going back inside to ask Dad for help, but before I could, there was a knock on my window.

It was Steve.

“Car trouble?” he asked, smiling as if this kind of thing happened every day.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

I sighed. “Yeah, it’s not starting. I was just going to get my dad, but…”

“Don’t worry about it. Let me take a look,” he offered, already rolling up his sleeves.

I watched him work, his hands moving with practiced ease. Within a few minutes, my car roared back to life. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until I exhaled.

A car engine | Source: Pexels

A car engine | Source: Pexels

“There you go,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Should be good now.”

I smiled, genuinely grateful. “Thanks, Steve. I guess I owe you one.”

He shrugged and gave me a look that made my stomach flip. “How about dinner? We can call it even.”

I froze for a second. Dinner? Was he asking me out?

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

I felt that familiar flicker of doubt, the little voice in the back of my head reminding me of all the reasons I shouldn’t say yes. But something in Steve’s eyes made me want to take the chance.

“Yeah, dinner sounds good.”

And just like that, I agreed. I never would’ve imagined then that Steve was exactly the man I needed to heal my wounded heart… or how deeply he’d hurt me, either.

A woman | Source: Midjourney

A woman | Source: Midjourney

Six months later, I stood in front of the mirror in my childhood bedroom, staring at myself in a wedding dress. It was surreal, honestly. After everything I’d been through, I didn’t think this day would ever come.

I was 39 years old, and I’d given up on the whole fairy tale, but here I was — about to marry Steve.

The wedding was small, just close family and a few friends, exactly what we wanted.

A wedding venue | Source: Pexels

A wedding venue | Source: Pexels

I remember standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, and feeling this overwhelming sense of calm. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t second-guessing anything.

“I do,” I whispered, barely able to keep the tears from spilling over.

“I do,” Steve said back, his voice thick with emotion.

And just like that, we were husband and wife.

A newlywed couple | Source: Pexels

A newlywed couple | Source: Pexels

That night, after all the congratulations and hugs, we finally got some alone time. Steve’s house, our house now, was quiet, the rooms still unfamiliar to me. I slipped into the bathroom to change into something more comfortable, my heart full and light.

But the minute I slipped back into the bedroom, I was greeted by a shocking sight.

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me, talking softly to someone… a someone who wasn’t there!

A man speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

A man speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

My heart skipped a beat.

“I wanted you to see this, Stace. Today was perfect… I just wish you could’ve been here.” His voice was soft, full of emotion.

I stood frozen in the doorway, trying to make sense of what I was hearing.

“Steve?” My voice sounded small, unsure.

He turned around slowly, guilt flickering across his face.

A startled man | Source: Midjourney

A startled man | Source: Midjourney

“Amber, I—”

I stepped closer, the air between us thick with unspoken words. “Who… who were you talking to?”

He took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. “I was talking to Stacy. My daughter.”

I stared at him, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. He’d told me he’d had a daughter. I knew she had died. But I didn’t know about… this.

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

“She died in a car accident, with her mom,” he continued, his voice strained. “But sometimes I talk to her. I know it sounds crazy, but I just… I feel like she’s still here with me. Especially today. I wanted her to know about you. I wanted her to see how happy I am.”

I didn’t know what to say. My chest felt tight and I couldn’t quite catch my breath. Steve’s grief was raw, a living thing between us, and it made everything feel heavy.

But I didn’t feel scared. I didn’t feel angry. Just… so sad. Sad for him, for everything he’d lost, and the way he’d been carrying it all alone. His grief hurt me as though it were my own.

A sad man | Source: Midjourney

A sad man | Source: Midjourney

I sat down beside him, my hand finding his. “I get it,” I said softly. “I do. You’re not crazy, Steve. You’re grieving.”

He let out a shaky breath, looking at me with such vulnerability that it nearly broke my heart. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner. I just didn’t want to scare you away.”

“You’re not scaring me away,” I said, squeezing his hand. “We all have things that haunt us. But we’re in this together now. We can carry this together.”

An earnest woman | Source: Midjourney

An earnest woman | Source: Midjourney

Steve’s eyes welled up with tears, and I pulled him into a hug, feeling the weight of his pain, his love, his fear, all of it wrapped up in that moment.

“Maybe… maybe we can talk to someone about it. A therapist, maybe. It doesn’t have to be just you and Stacy anymore.”

He nodded against my shoulder, his grip on me tightening. “I’ve thought about it. I just didn’t know how to start. Thank you for understanding, Amber. I didn’t know how much I needed this.”

An emotional man | Source: Midjourney

An emotional man | Source: Midjourney

I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, my heart swelling with a love deeper than I’d ever known. “We’ll figure it out, Steve. Together.”

And as I kissed him, I knew we would. We weren’t perfect, but we were real, and for the first time, that felt like enough.

But that’s the thing about love, isn’t it? It’s not about finding some perfect person without any scars; it’s about finding someone whose scars you’re willing to share.

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

Here’s another story: Emma’s world shatters when Steve’s ex, Susan, interrupts the ceremony to announce that she’s dying and beg Steve to spend her last six months with her. Shocked and betrayed, Emma demands answers, only to find Steve torn between his past and their future. 

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.

Man Who Asked Me Out Didn’t Realize I Was the ‘Fat Girl’ He Bullied in High School – My Perfect Revenge

When Jen matches with her high school bully on a dating site, she relives the trauma of her childhood. But still, she goes on the date—as a way of getting revenge for how she was treated. The date ends up being a bust, and Jen doesn’t get what she intended, so she plans a second meeting…

I sat at the bar, pretending to be absorbed in my phone as the door swung open and my date walked in. After meeting on a dating app, Justin and I had decided that it was finally time to meet.

Except that Justin and I had met before—just that he didn’t remember it.

A person using her phone | Source: Unsplash

A person using her phone | Source: Unsplash

As he walked in, the familiar jolt of recognition shot through me, but on his face, there was only the casual scan of a man on the lookout for someone who could have been anyone but the girl he once tormented. As he approached, his smile was confident, practiced.

I steeled myself, reminding my racing heart of its role tonight—a new woman, who just wanted revenge.

A smiling man | Source: Unsplash

A smiling man | Source: Unsplash

“Hey, Jen,” he said, sliding into the seat beside me, unaware of the storm he was walking into. “I hope I’m not too late?”

“Not at all,” I replied, my voice steady and sweet. “I was just enjoying the vibe here. This place has changed since the last time I was around.”

People sitting at a bar | Source: Pexels

People sitting at a bar | Source: Pexels

When we had matched on the app, I was convinced that Justin wouldn’t be able to recognize me. Since high school, I had drastically changed—everything from my hair, my weight, and my sense of style.

I was a new person.

“Yeah, it’s got a good crowd tonight,” Justin nodded, waving over a bartender. “Can I get you a drink now?”

People sitting at a bar | Source: Pexels

People sitting at a bar | Source: Pexels

I watched him closely—he had barely changed since the last time I saw him. It had been our high school graduation, followed by a party in an open field. Justin had barely glanced at me. He didn’t register that I was someone who had been attracted to him.

Then, not now.

A group of graduates | Source: Pexels

A group of graduates | Source: Pexels

When we matched, I wasn’t interested in Justin—but after I spoke to my sister, we both thought that messing with Justin would be healing in some way.

“Sure, a gin and tonic, thank you,” I said, watching his face for any sign of recognition. There was none. It was clear as he saw me—I was just another date. Just another woman that he had picked up.

A cocktail with strawberries | Source: Pexels

A cocktail with strawberries | Source: Pexels

As he chatted about his job and recent travels, I nodded along, my mind racing ahead to the plan unfolding around us. The bar was filling up quickly.

Justin continued to speak, and I began to space out—remembering moments from high school.

Students hanging out together | Source: Pexels

Students hanging out together | Source: Pexels

Like the one time when the dull echo of my footsteps in the empty high school corridor seemed louder than usual, reverberating off the lockers with a metallic chill.

I clutched my books tightly to my chest, my eyes downcast, trying to make myself invisible. The memory of Justin’s harsh laughter from earlier that day still stung, a cruel reminder of my daily ordeal.

A close-up of lockers | Source: Pexels

A close-up of lockers | Source: Pexels

As I turned the corner, I could hear the muffled sounds of other students, their voices light and carefree. I approached the bathroom, a temporary refuge where I could gather myself away from prying eyes and sharp tongues.

I could never eat in the cafeteria. They would all look at me and laugh.

Meals on trays | Source: Unsplash

Meals on trays | Source: Unsplash

I remember pushing the bathroom door open, the familiar scent of industrial cleaner mixed with a hint of floral air freshener greeted me. I checked the stalls quickly—empty—and allowed myself a moment to lean against the cool tile wall, exhaling slowly.

The tears came then, quietly at first, then with a shuddering force I couldn’t contain. It wasn’t just the words that Justin had hurled at me—it was the relentless, grinding down of my spirit, day after day.

A bathroom stall | Source: Unsplash

A bathroom stall | Source: Unsplash

Bringing me back to the present, Justin asked if I wanted to leave the bar after our drink and get something to eat at the many food stalls outside. Younger me would never, but I was different now.

As he asked for the bill, Justin began to hound the waitress.

A couple drinking at the bar | Source: Pexels

A couple drinking at the bar | Source: Pexels

“I need you to hurry up,” he told her. “We’ve got places to be and you’re just taking up my time. Could you do your job any slower?”

She blinked back tears and went to get the bill.

“My ex-girlfriend was just like that,” he said, turning to me. “Her eyes would well up whenever I said anything.”

A smiling waitress | Source: Unsplash

A smiling waitress | Source: Unsplash

The evening ended with me leaving Justin outside the bar, claiming that I had a headache and needed to sleep it off.

I was disappointed that I didn’t get my revenge.

At home, I sat with my laptop in bed and decided to take another shot at having my revenge against Justin. I logged onto Facebook and created an event—adding everyone who had gone to high school with us.

A person using their laptop in bed | Source: Pexels

A person using their laptop in bed | Source: Pexels

I planned the reunion, making the bar that I had just left the location for our meeting. When the event was created, many of my ex-classmates indicated that they would be there—there were many shares and by the next morning, the number of people attending had grown.

A laptop opened to Facebook | Source: Pexels

A laptop opened to Facebook | Source: Pexels

On the day of the reunion, I spent a while getting dressed. This was a big moment. This was for everyone to see that I was the best version of myself—and that I was confident in my own skin.

At the bar, I went straight to the bartender and made sure that the bill would be sent to Justin at the end of the evening, giving his name and number.

A woman doing her make up | Source: Pexels

A woman doing her make up | Source: Pexels

After a while, Justin came up to me with a big grin on his face.

“You seem different, have we met before?” he asked, slurping his drink.

He didn’t even have the decency to remember me from drinks the previous week.

The irony of his words almost made me laugh, but I kept my composure.

A person holding a glass | Source: Pexels

A person holding a glass | Source: Pexels

“I get that a lot,” I deflected. “Maybe I just have one of those faces.”

Justin laughed, shrugging as he turned to signal the bartender for another round.

“But you do know me,” I said. “You really haven’t changed, have you, Justin?”

“What do you mean?”

A couple talking | Source: Pexels

A couple talking | Source: Pexels

“Just that you’ve always had this way of making people feel less,” I pressed on, my resolve hardening with each word. “Like how you talk to the waitress, or how you joked about your ex the other night.”

Justin’s face hardened when he realized who I was—but still, I was merely the girl from the dating app, not the one who had been bullied by him before.

A person holding her phone | Source: Pexels

A person holding her phone | Source: Pexels

“What? Oh! Jen!” he said, his face contorting.

“Do you remember Jennifer from high school?” I asked loudly, hoping that people would be listening. “The girl that you tormented. The girl that you made sure knew how different she was from everyone else. That she didn’t fit your cruel standards.”

His face went pale, his eyes widening as realization dawned, connecting the past with the present.

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

“I’m that Jennifer,” I said. “And tonight, I wanted you to see exactly who I have become, despite your best efforts to break me down.”

Justin stood up, his mouth opening and closing, searching for something to say but finding nothing. Around us, the expressions from our classmates ranged from shock to support, their eyes fixed on us.

A surprised woman | Source: Unsplash

A surprised woman | Source: Unsplash

“I hope one day you’ll understand the weight of your words, how deeply they can cut,” I said.

Turning on my heel, I left him standing there stupidly, the bill for the drinks being the least of his worries.

Finally, I had done it.

A person holding a receipt | Source: Pexels

A person holding a receipt | Source: Pexels

What would you have done?

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*