Man Finds Out about His Bride’s Betrayal – He Goes to the Altar with a Remote Control in His Hands
Daphne is in the middle of her brother’s wedding. As a bridesmaid, she has an obligation to Denise. But when Liam surprises them all with a video revealing Denise’s ultimate secrets, Daphne has no choice but to choose her brother—even if what he did was humiliating for Denise.
As my brother’s wedding approached, excitement buzzed through the air, filling everyone with anticipation. My brother, the groom, was a notorious prankster, and his hints at a major surprise had us all on edge.
I thought he was just creating the drama for effect—Liam was that person.
A smiling man looking at the camera | Source: Pexels
Liam and his fiancée, Denise, had been dating for so long that it didn’t come as a surprise when she asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.
“Please, Daphne,” she asked, gifting me a box full of goodies. “I need you to be there with me on our big day—you’re not just Liam’s little sister, but mine, too.”
Two gift wrapped boxes | Source: Unsplash
Of course, I accepted. Denise did feel like a sister to me—in fact, she was the one who planned my 21st birthday party instead of the friends that I thought would do it.
So, when it came to wedding planning, I think Denise spent more time talking about their wedding to me than Liam.
Gold 21st foil balloons | Source: Unsplash
“I’m just wasting my time with Liam,” she said. “You can make notes for us. And we can do the wedding cake tasting.”
Liam, on the other hand, seemed like he was doing the bare minimum with the wedding—but the reality is that he was busy putting together a beautiful video for the wedding.
A wedding planner and notebooks | Source: Pexels
“I’m going to have it played just before we do our vows,” he said when I went to visit him.
He showed me a folder on his laptop where he was saving all his and Denise’s videos and photos, ready to create the video.
A man using a laptop | Source: Unsplash
“Do you think Liam has cold feet?” Denise asked me when we went wedding shopping.
“No,” I replied honestly. “He’s planning something for you, that’s taking all his time at the moment.”
“What?” she asked enthusiastically.
“I’m sworn to secrecy,” I said. “Now, go and try on dresses!”
A row of wedding dresses | Source: Unsplash
On the morning of the wedding, I got to the hotel suite early. I wanted to see Liam before getting ready with Denise and the other bridesmaids.
“You have no idea what’s coming,” he teased, sipping on a glass of champagne as he got ready.
“Oh boy,” I said. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned.”
Two glasses of champagne | Source: Unsplash
The ceremony was perfect—and everything had gone exactly to plan as Denise wanted.
From the flowers to the music to the scented candles that perfumed the venue. It was all perfect.
When the time came for the vows, my brother told the priest to wait.
A couple kneeling before a priest | Source: Unsplash
“I have something to show you all,” he said. “This is Denise and my love story from the beginning to right now.”
He pulled a remote from his pocket with a flourish, while two of his groomsmen wheeled a TV screen to the middle of the altar, just in front of where Liam and Denise were standing.
“Watch this,” he said, stepping back to join his groomsmen. And then he pressed play.
A person holding a remote control | Source: Unsplash
The screen came alive with their love story—their first kiss, snippets from trips together, cozy nights in, dinners cooked together, and so on.
The montage tugged at heartstrings, and all the guests were enthralled.
A close-up of a couple | Source: Unsplash
But the real shock was still to come.
As the video ended, the priest went back to his position, ready to continue the ceremony from where he left off. He called for Denise and Liam to resume their positions, too.
He solemnly asked if anyone objected.
A couple at the altar | Source: Pexels
Before anyone knew what was happening, Liam dropped Denise’s hand and stepped away, back down the aisle.
“I do,” he declared.
“What?” Denise hissed. “Liam, this isn’t the time for one of your pranks.”
“This isn’t a prank,” he said.
Bride and groom at the altar | Source: Pexels
He held up the remote control again and pressed another button—the air was thick with tension as music began to fill the room.
This new video was a stark contrast—it showed his bride in their shared home, but Denise wasn’t alone.
Instead, she was wearing lingerie and depicted in a compromising situation with another man.
An intimate photo of a couple | Source: Pexels
The room fell deathly quiet, every eye glued to the screen, then slowly turning to gauge her reaction at my brother’s reveal.
Denise turned around slowly to face her guests, her face ghostly pale, her eyes wide with horror.
“This can’t be happening,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
Then, the same man from the video swore loudly—he was seated at the back of the venue, dressed in a suit.
A man in a suit | Source: Pexels
“This is why I won’t be marrying Denise today,” Liam said, his loud voice breaking the silence, his tone even but heavy with emotion.
“I couldn’t let us all be here, witnessing what was supposed to be love, without the truth being known.”
The ceremony was ground to a halt, and the festive atmosphere evaporated into a thick, awkward tension.
Denise staggered slightly, looking around as if seeking an escape or an ally. She kicked off her shoes and picked them up.
A bride holding her shoes | Source: Pexels
“It’s not what it looks like,” she said. “Liam, please, not here. Let’s talk about it outside.”
I wanted to be able to look at Denise and feel sorry for her—we had been so close for so many years. But the evidence had been in the video. As close as we were, she was just another cheater.
A woman who had hurt my brother.
She pleaded with Liam again, louder this time. Tears fell down her face.
But the damage was done. My brother’s gaze never wavered from the woman he was supposed to marry.
A crying bride | Source: Pexels
“How long?” he asked, his voice a low growl.
“Not long,” she managed to say, her composure breaking. “I’m so sorry, you were never supposed to know about it.”
“In our own home, though? Seriously, Denise?” my brother retorted sharply, his hurt palpable to all watching.
“You brought him into our home,” he said.
The crowd murmured, some guests shaking their heads, others unable to look away from the unfolding drama.
A couple lying in bed | Source: Pexels
The priest stepped back. I wondered if he was thinking about taking Liam and Denise in for couples’ counseling—something that they had refused when they booked the priest in the first place.
Liam walked out first, abandoning his wedding and all the guests he and Denise had chosen.
Denise ran out behind him, calling out to Liam, but he refused to acknowledge her presence. Her mother ran out behind her.
A bride running | Source: Unsplash
Later, I walked around the hotel to find my brother. I found him sitting at the bar, drinking his feelings away while eating a bowl of olives.
“Did you know?” he asked me.
“No, of course not,” I said quickly.
It turned out that when Liam was going through the videos and photos on his laptop, he ended up looking through Denise’s, too.
A hotel bar | Source: Pexels
“I just wanted to see if there was anything else that I could add to the video,” he said sadly.
I ordered myself a drink and got comfortable next to my brother—from the looks of it, we were going to be there for a long time.
“I went through the first folder,” he admitted. “And it was incredible because she had all these photos that I hadn’t seen before. But in the next folder, there was the video of Denise with that man. It wasn’t even a locked folder, Daphne,” he said.
A cocktail on a tray | Source: Unsplash
We were both silent for a while, and Liam gulped away his drink.
“Do you think I was wrong to expose her?” he asked.
“No,” I said honestly. “But maybe you should have spoken to her privately. There’s no knowing how this could wreck her. Or what she’ll do next.”
I sat back in my seat and helped myself to the bowl of pretzels that the bartender had left out for us.
“I have no intention of checking on her,” Liam said. “I don’t care.”
A bowl of pretzel sticks and nuts | Source: Unsplash
I didn’t have any intention of getting Liam to forgive Denise. There was no point in trying to get him to forgive her after what she had done—Liam had always been sure of one thing. Cheating was the absolute deal breaker in a relationship.
“Come,” he said. “Let’s go eat some wedding cake. That can’t go to waste, too.”
I followed my brother out to the dining room that had been set up for the wedding reception.
I knew that as much as I wanted to check on Denise—Liam needed me in his corner.
A white wedding cake with fruit | Source: Unsplash
What would you have done?
My MIL Left the House Every Thursday & Returned Smelling Terribly — I Went Pale When I Discovered Why
They say you never really know someone until you’ve lived with them. I thought I knew my mother-in-law, but everything changed when I decided to follow her. What I uncovered wasn’t just a secret; it was a ticking time bomb that threatened the peace of our home.
I used to think my life was predictable, with its comforting routine. I worked as a freelance graphic designer, which gave me the flexibility to be home most days while still bringing in a decent income.
A woman working on her laptop from home | Source: Midjourney
Xander, my husband, worked long hours at his law firm, so I often had the house to myself. It was peaceful until my mother-in-law, Cordelia, moved in three months ago.
After her husband passed away, she called us one night, her voice trembling.
“Olive, dear… I don’t know how to do this on my own,” she’d sobbed over the phone. “The house is so empty, so lonely… I just need to be around my family.”
An extremely sad senior woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
I glanced at Xander, and he nodded, looking concerned. We agreed to let Cordelia move in; it felt like the right thing to do for a grieving woman who’d just lost her partner of 40 years. But from the start, something felt off.
Cordelia had always been a little strange, but now her behavior was unpredictable. Every Thursday, she would leave early in the morning and return late in the evening, her clothes carrying a terrible stench: something rotten and damp, like decay. It lingered, clinging to the air and making me question what she was really up to.
A woman looks thoughtful and curious while sitting at home | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, where were you today?” Xander asked her one Thursday evening as she shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes avoiding ours. I stood by the stove, pretending to stir a pot of soup, trying not to wrinkle my nose at the smell.
“Oh, just out with some old friends,” she said, waving a hand dismissively, her smile tight and unconvincing.
A senior woman forces a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“Every Thursday?” I asked, keeping my tone casual. “That must be some social circle.”
She glanced at me, her eyes lingering a moment too long, then shrugged. “We like to meet regularly. It’s good for the soul, you know, catching up with old friends.”
But that smell — it was like she’d been crawling through a sewer. The scent lingered long after she’d passed, a pungent blend of garbage and something wet and decayed. I could feel my curiosity gnawing at me, the way you can’t help but poke at a sore tooth.
A curious woman standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
One Wednesday night, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Xander,” I whispered, nudging him awake. “Are you seriously buying that story?”
He blinked sleepily. “What story?”
“Your mom’s ‘out with old friends’ story,” I replied. “Every Thursday? And that smell… it’s not normal.”
He sighed. “Maybe she’s just grieving in her own way, Olive. People cope differently.”
I felt my jaw tighten. “And what way is that? Dumpster diving?”
He chuckled softly, half-asleep, “Let it go, love. It’s probably nothing.”
A man chuckles softly while lying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney
But it didn’t feel like “nothing.” It felt like a secret, and I needed to know.
The next Thursday, I called in sick and decided to follow her. I waited by the window, peeking through the blinds like some kind of amateur detective. Cordelia left the house at her usual time, dressed in her oversized coat, clutching her handbag tightly.
I kept a safe distance as she walked down the street, turning left at the end and then another left into an alley I didn’t even know existed. My heart pounded in my chest as I tailed her.
A woman is out on the street, looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
She stopped at the corner and looked around like she was checking for someone or something.
“Where are you going, Cordelia?” I whispered, more curious than ever.
I was expecting something harmless, maybe even laughable, like an old ladies’ knitting club or maybe a bingo night in a creepy basement. But what I found inside was nothing like that.
Cordelia didn’t meet up with friends. Instead, she made her way through the shadiest part of town, slipping into an old, run-down building that looked like it could collapse at any moment.
A senior woman standing outside an old building | Source: Midjourney
I hesitated outside, the walls covered in graffiti and the windows boarded up, but I took a deep breath and followed her inside. The air was thick with smoke, the kind that sticks to your skin, and the room was filled with the low hum of murmurs and distant laughter.
That’s when I saw it: a hidden, illegal casino tucked away in the back, reeking of stale smoke and the sour smell of desperation. The dimly lit room was filled with flashing lights and the sounds of poker chips clinking filled the air.
Stacks of poker chips on a table | Source: Pexels
And there, in the middle of it all, was my mother-in-law. Not just “hanging out with friends,” but gambling away every penny she could get her hands on, her eyes fixed on the cards in front of her, her hands trembling with each bet she placed.
I stayed in the shadows, barely breathing, watching her play hand after hand. She looked different, haggard, almost like she was wearing the weight of every decision she’d ever made. Her lips were moving, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying over the noise.
A grayscale photo of a senior woman sitting in a casino with gambling chips lying on her table | Source: Midjourney
I saw her lose money, win a little, then lose it all again. She seemed almost possessed, her fingers shaking as she reached for the chips, her face lined with a mixture of desperation and obsession.
I wanted to pull her out of there, to grab her by the arm and drag her home, but I couldn’t move. I felt frozen, glued to the spot. I needed to see how far she would go. She didn’t leave until late in the evening, and when she finally did, she looked exhausted.
A senior woman looks exhausted while sitting in a casino | Source: Midjourney
Her eyes were glazed over, and her shoulders slumped like she was carrying the weight of her losses on her back.
I waited until she turned the corner before I followed, keeping my distance. As we walked back, I felt a wave of anger and pity twisting in my stomach. What had she gotten herself into? And why hadn’t she told us?
The next morning, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. At breakfast, I set my coffee cup down a little too hard. “Cordelia, where were you yesterday?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
A woman looks serious while standing in the kitchen and looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
She barely looked up from her cereal. “With friends, like I told you.”
“Stop lying, Cordelia,” I snapped. “I followed you. I know where you were.”
Her spoon clattered against the bowl, and she went pale. “You… you followed me?”
Xander looked between us, confused. “What’s going on?”
“She wasn’t with friends, Xander,” I said, my gaze fixed on her. “She was at an illegal casino, gambling. And from the looks of it, she’s been doing it for a while.”
A senior woman gambling in a casino | Source: Midjourney
Cordelia’s face crumpled, and she broke down. “I… I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’ve lost everything… everything. I had nowhere else to go. That’s why I begged you to let me stay. I was ashamed, and I didn’t know how to tell you…”
Xander’s face turned a deep shade of red. “You mean to tell me you’ve been lying to us this whole time? Using us?”
“I didn’t mean to!” she cried. “I didn’t know how to stop. I thought maybe… maybe I could win it all back.”
A grayscale photo of a senior woman looking sad and desperate | Source: Midjourney
I felt a pang of guilt, but it was overshadowed by the anger boiling inside me. “You’ve been draining us, Cordelia. We took you in because we cared, not so you could feed your addiction.”
She looked at me, her face streaked with tears. “I know, I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll change. Just… don’t throw me out. Please.”
That night, Xander and I lay in bed, unable to sleep. “We have to do something,” I whispered. “We can’t just let her keep doing this.”
Xander sighed deeply. “What do you suggest, Olive? Tough love?”
A man looking at his wife while sitting in bed at night | Source: Midjourney
I nodded. “Exactly. If she’s not going to stop on her own, then we’ll have to make her stop.”
The following Thursday, I handed her a large sum of cash, more than she had seen in one place since she’d moved in with us. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I saw that familiar spark of greed.
“Go ahead,” I said, forcing a smile. “Take this and do whatever you want with it.”
A woman forcing a smile while looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
She hesitated for just a second before snatching the money and stuffing it into her purse.
“Thank you, Olive,” she murmured, her voice shaking, but she didn’t meet my eyes. And then she was gone, practically running out the door.
Xander stood behind me, his arms crossed. “Are you sure about this?”
“Trust me,” I replied. “She won’t get far.”
Earlier that day, I had made a few calls, and by the time Cordelia reached the casino, the place was swarming with undercover cops. The raid went down right as she was about to hand over the cash.
Two cops standing in a casino | Source: Midjourney
I wasn’t there to see it, but I could imagine the look on her face: shock, maybe a little betrayal, as they caught her red-handed, along with the owners of the illegal casino.
That evening, the phone rang. It was the police. “Mrs. Fields?” the officer said. “We have your mother-in-law in custody.”
“We know,” I replied calmly. “And we’re not bailing her out. You should know she’s been struggling with a gambling addiction. We want her to get help.”
A woman talking on her phone | Source: Midjourney
The officer seemed taken aback but eventually agreed to include our statement in the report. The judge showed no mercy; Cordelia was sentenced to mandatory rehabilitation and a hefty fine.
Months later, when she was released from rehab, Cordelia looked different. She seemed smaller, more fragile. She stood in our doorway, wringing her hands.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I know I hurt you both, and I’m ready to make it right. I want to rebuild my life.”
A senior woman looks sad and ashamed | Source: Midjourney
Xander and I exchanged a look. He stepped forward, his expression soft but firm.
“We’re willing to give you another chance, Mom,” he said, “but on our terms. We’ve found you a modest apartment nearby. We’ll cover the rent, but only if you keep your word and attend your support group meetings.”
Cordelia nodded eagerly, tears in her eyes. “I will. I swear. Thank you… thank you for giving me a chance.”
As we watched her walk away to her new home, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope mixed with the fear of another betrayal.
A woman looks hopeful and a bit fearful while standing outside her house and looking at something | Source: Midjourney
We’d done all we could, and the rest was up to her. The ball was in her court, and only time would tell if she could truly change.
But when Natasha starts to see a change in Marlene’s behavior, she begins to get worried about the old woman. Eventually, when the truth is revealed, Natasha doesn’t know what to do.
Two women cooking together | Source: Pexels
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.
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