My Younger Sister Stole My Fiancé – But I Got the Ultimate Revenge at Her Wedding

When Paige’s sister steals her fiancé, betrayal isn’t enough, she wants to flaunt her little victory. One year later, an invitation arrives. Erica is getting married to the man she took, and she wants Paige to watch. But what Erica doesn’t know is that Paige has a plan. And before the night is over, the bride’s perfect day will be in ruins.

I wasn’t supposed to be at this wedding.

That much was clear from the sideways glances and the murmured whispers trailing behind me as I walked through the grand hall.

A smiling woman at a wedding | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman at a wedding | Source: Midjourney

I’ll admit, the wedding set up was stunning. Erica had taken her time to set the scene with shades of gold and ivory. The guests had come wearing their expensive gowns and tuxedos. Everything was… stunning.

But no amount of elegance could mask the rot beneath the surface.

This wasn’t just any wedding. This was her wedding.

Erica.

People at a wedding | Source: Midjourney

People at a wedding | Source: Midjourney

My younger sister. My parents’ golden child. The one who was handed everything on a silver platter while I scraped and clawed for every bit of success I had.

And now?

She had taken the one thing that was supposed to be mine.

Stan.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Stan had been my fiancé. He had been my future. He was the man I loved and trusted, until I came home early from work one night and found them tangled together in our bed.

I still remember how he froze, his face twisted in guilt. As for my sister? She had only smirked, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

“I won, Paige,” she had said simply. “Checkmate.”

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A month later, the wedding I had spent over a year planning was canceled, with all the vendors trying to keep my deposits. And what about Erica and Stan? They no longer had to sneak around. They were finally an official couple.

After that, I left town for a few weeks, moving around hotels while working remotely. I tried to put it all behind me, and eventually, I did. When I was ready, I moved back in and got myself a kitten.

A ginger kitten | Source: Midjourney

A ginger kitten | Source: Midjourney

Then, the invitation arrived.

And now, a year after that entire fiasco, here I was, standing in the middle of their celebration, invited as nothing more than a spectator to their so-called victory.

I bet it was my parents who forced her to invite me. If Erica had her own way, she would never have invited me. Or maybe she would have… just to gloat. She was as nasty as they came.

A wedding invitation | Source: Midjourney

A wedding invitation | Source: Midjourney

But what Erica didn’t know, what nobody knew, was that tonight, I wasn’t here to mourn my loss.

I was here to make sure that Erica would never forget what she had done to me. And with that, she would never forget the surprise I had planned for her wedding reception.

The ceremony was a blur. I stood near the back, barely listening as the officiant droned on about love and devotion. Honestly, they were just words that meant nothing.

A woman standing in a wedding venue | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a wedding venue | Source: Midjourney

Stan, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, stared at Erica with a look of adoration I knew was fake. She, in turn, beamed up at him like she had won the grandest prize of all.

I almost laughed.

Enjoy it while you can, sweetheart, I thought while sipping my champagne.

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

By the time the reception began, the hall buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses. A massive screen behind the dance floor played a slideshow of their engagement photos, Stan lifting Erica into the air, their foreheads touching as they smiled at each other.

Honestly, if you didn’t know the history of how they got together, you would think they were genuinely happy.

And maybe they were. Maybe this was how things were supposed to turn out.

Glasses of champagne on a table | Source: Midjourney

Glasses of champagne on a table | Source: Midjourney

But I wasn’t going to give in that easily. I wasn’t going to just let this go.

Why should Erica get the happily-ever-after, especially after all the pain and betrayal I had felt?

Nope. Not a chance.

Soon, their perfect little fairytale was about to take a turn.

I moved through the crowd unnoticed, my sleek black dress hugging my frame just right. I wasn’t dressed like a guest. I was dressed like a reckoning, and I felt confident, more confident than I had in a long time.

A woman walking through a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking through a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney

Reaching the laptop connected to the projector, I slipped in my flash drive. A few clicks, a deep breath, and then…

Showtime.

The first few seconds went unnoticed. The guests continued sipping champagne and nibbling on canapés, lost in conversation. The bridal couple made their way through the crowd, stopping to talk and hug people as they went.

Then, Stan’s voice filled the hall.

“Please, don’t leave me!”

A man sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney

The video played on the massive screen, the footage grainy from the security camera mounted in my bedroom. Stan was on the bed, his face streaked with tears. I was standing on the other end listening to him try to ‘explain’ what had gone on between him and my sister.

“Erica means nothing to me, Paige! Absolutely nothing!” he sobbed. “She was a mistake! I love you, Paige! I made a huge mistake!”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

I turned to look at Erica.

Her face drained of color.

A shocked bride | Source: Midjourney

A shocked bride | Source: Midjourney

Stan, too, stood frozen, his eyes wide. His hands twitched at his sides.

But still, I wasn’t done.

The video cut to more security footage. I lived in a quiet neighborhood that was often targeted for break-ins, which was why I had security cameras installed everywhere and in every room.

Now, the footage showed Erica and Stan sneaking into my house together, slipping into my bedroom when they thought I was working late. Timestamp after timestamp, betrayal after betrayal.

A security camera on a porch | Source: Midjourney

A security camera on a porch | Source: Midjourney

Then, the final nail in the coffin.

Erica, lying in my bed, laughing.

“She’ll never know…” she whispered, her voice light and breathy.

“Paige who?” Stan said, laughing with her.

A collective gasp spread through the crowd. Someone dropped a champagne glass.

A broken champagne glass | Source: Midjourney

A broken champagne glass | Source: Midjourney

“Oh my God,” a woman murmured.

My mother looked like she might faint. My father’s jaw clenched so tightly I swore I heard his teeth grind.

And then, pure chaos.

Erica stumbled back, her hands shaking.

“This… this isn’t real!” she stammered.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

But the proof was right there, glaring under the bright glow of the screen.

“Dinner will be served now!” she blurted, waving her hands in the air. “Everyone just take your seats and enjoy!”

Stan turned to her, his expression morphing into pure rage.

An angry bride | Source: Midjourney

An angry bride | Source: Midjourney

“Erica, you told me that you went onto Paige’s computer and deleted the footage.”

“Oh?” I mused, my voice dripping with mock innocence. “You mean you knew about it? You knew that the security cameras were going to catch you in the act?”

His face paled, giving himself away.

The guests murmured louder now, judgment and disgust flickering through their faces.

A shocked groom | Source: Midjourney

A shocked groom | Source: Midjourney

And then, before Erica could retaliate, a voice cut through the tension.

“Paige.”

I turned.

Jack stepped forward from the crowd, his crisp white shirt visible beneath the black vest of his waiter’s uniform.

A smiling man holding a tray | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man holding a tray | Source: Midjourney

Month ago, when I told Jack about what I wanted to do, he was adamant that he needed to be with me. He had just come over after work and the first thing he saw was my sister’s wedding invitation on the table.

“I want to go to the wedding,” I said. “I just don’t want to be… I don’t know. Jack, Erica is a problem. She’s used to everything being about her. I want to teach her some kind of lesson.”

Jack moved around the kitchen, chopping whatever I asked him for.

“Then I’ll come with, Paige,” he said.

“But I don’t want to draw attention to you,” I said, handing him a bowl of ramen. “I don’t want Erica to spoil my moment before I even get to it. And if she sees you, that’s exactly what she’ll do.”

“Then I’ll come in as a waiter, if that’s what it takes!” he said. “But I want to be there. That way, if you need me, I’ll be right there.”

In the end, I gave in. I was switched off from my parents, and I hadn’t been close with my family for a long time, so knowing that Jack was around made me feel better.

A bowl of ramen | Source: Midjourney

A bowl of ramen | Source: Midjourney

Now, Jack set down his tray of champagne glasses on a table and smiled at me.

His sharp blue eyes met mine. They were steady and unwavering… and reassuring.

I had never been more grateful to see someone in my entire life. As much as I was surrounded by family, having Jack around was the one thing that had kept me grounded throughout the ceremony. I despised Erica and Stan but watching them actually get married did tug at my heart.

But now? Seeing Jack?

I was comforted.

“Shall we go?” I asked.

Jack shook his head and walked over to me.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

Gasps rippled through the crowd as he strode toward me, each step measured and purposeful. And then, without hesitation, he dropped to one knee.

The room, already reeling from the scandal on screen, now fell into a stunned silence.

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it, revealing the most breathtaking ring I had ever seen.

“I’ve waited long enough to ask you this, my love,” he said, his voice strong, clear, and certain. “Paige, will you marry me?”

A beautiful engagement ring | Source: Midjourney

A beautiful engagement ring | Source: Midjourney

A sharp inhale swept through the crowd.

Erica let out a strangled sound.

“Are you… are you kidding me right now?” she screeched. “Paige! Why? What the hell? Now? At my wedding?!”

She looked like a deer in headlights but she also looked a canon about to burst through the room, taking everything down with her. For a moment, I felt bad. But on a whole… I felt vindicated.

A shouting bride | Source: Midjourney

A shouting bride | Source: Midjourney

I smiled, the weight of the past year lifting from my shoulders.

She had stolen the wrong man. Stan was nothing compared to Jack. Jack was everything that Stan hadn’t been. He was trustworthy and certain about life and his love for me.

Stan? Stan had just wanted a good time.

But as I looked at him now, he looked heartbroken. He looked like everything wrong had happened to him and the weight of it all was suffocating. He looked at Erica who was still fuming. He even tried to reach out to hold onto her hand but she tugged it away with such a force that he looked shocked.

I would have checked on him. But he wasn’t my problem.

A side view of a groom | Source: Midjourney

A side view of a groom | Source: Midjourney

Instead, I turned back to Jack, my chest tight with emotion.

“Yes!” I said, my voice unwavering. “Yes, Jack! I will!”

The room erupted. Some guests, still reeling from the scandal, now cheered. My mother wiped away tears, not of shame this time, but of joy.

An emotional woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

Erica’s face twisted in pure, unfiltered rage. There was something unfamiliar about her rage. I hadn’t seen her so upset in my entire life. Erica was used to getting everything she wanted but now on the most important day of her life, she had lost control. There was no joy in her actions. There was no victory over me anymore.

There was just… anger and hurt. And disappointment. I should have felt bad, right?

But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t bring myself to it.

“This is my day!” she shrieked, stamping her foot and knocking her chair over.

An upset bride holding her head | Source: Midjourney

An upset bride holding her head | Source: Midjourney

I turned to her, tilting my head.

“Oh, honey,” I said, my voice dripping with sweetness. “You stole that fool from me and my wedding. I just returned the favor and stole the show.”

Then, with Jack’s hand firmly in mine, I walked out of the hall, leaving my sister standing at her wedding reception, humiliated, betrayed, and hurt.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

The wedding was far behind us, but my heart was still racing. The echoes of gasps, whispers, and Erica’s shriek still clung to the edges of my mind.

Now, though, it was just Jack and me.

We sat across from each other in a tiny 24-hour diner, both of us absurdly overdressed for a place that served greasy fries and milkshakes in chipped glasses. My sleek black dress felt out of place against the cracked leather booth, and Jack looked like he had just stepped out of a movie scene.

The interior of a diner | Source: Midjourney

The interior of a diner | Source: Midjourney

And yet, this was the most comfortable I’d felt all night.

Jack slid a plate of fries toward me.

“Eat,” he commanded. “You’ve had a long day.”

“That’s an understatement,” I laughed, but I picked up a fry anyway.

A plate of fries | Source: Midjourney

A plate of fries | Source: Midjourney

For a while, we just sat there, the hum of the diner filling the silence. It wasn’t awkward, it was easy. But that had been life since I met Jack.

Finally, I set my drink down and met his gaze.

“So… how long were you planning that?”

“The proposal?” he smirked.

He exhaled, leaning back against the booth.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

“I’ve wanted to ask you for months, Paige. But I knew you weren’t ready. Not just for marriage, but the whole commitment thing? You needed time to heal. I wasn’t going to rush that.”

His fingers traced patterns on the table and then picked up his milkshake.

“But when I found out that she invited you? That was the final straw. I wasn’t going to let you stand there alone while she flaunted him in front of you.”

A lime milkshake on a diner table | Source: Midjourney

A lime milkshake on a diner table | Source: Midjourney

“And you got a job in the catering industry, or you snuck in?”

“I called in a favor, honey,” he grinned. “Apparently, I look good holding a tray.”

I laughed, really laughed, for the first time in a long time.

Jack leaned forward, his expression much softer now.

A woman sitting in a diner and laughing | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a diner and laughing | Source: Midjourney

“I meant every word, Paige. I love you. And I’ll wait as long as you need. But this evening felt like the right moment to finally ask.”

“I think,” I said after a moment, “that you chose the perfect moment.”

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had won.

A smiling woman sitting outside | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman sitting outside | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

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

When Davina promised her sister Clara $10,000 for her wedding, she never expected betrayal to cancel the big day. But when Clara demands the money anyway, despite her role in the wedding debacle, it’s time for Davina to set her straight. A lesson in loyalty, consequences, and unexpected twists you don’t see coming…

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.

Me desperté en mitad de la noche y encontré a un completo desconocido tumbado a mi lado en lugar de mi marido

Estaba agotadísima por un exigente turno de noche en la tienda. Me tiré en la cama y me abracé a lo que creía que era mi marido, que yacía a mi lado en nuestro dormitorio en penumbra. Me desperté sobresaltada en plena noche cuando me di cuenta de que el hombre que estaba a mi lado NO ERA MI MARIDO, sino un TOTAL EXTRAÑO.

Mi marido Christian y yo llevamos casados cinco años. Normalmente, somos esa molesta pareja que no puede quitarse las manos de encima, pero últimamente, estos turnos nocturnos en la tienda me están matando.

Los turnos de diez horas tratando con universitarios borrachos y camioneros que toman bebidas energéticas no es precisamente el trabajo de mis sueños, pero me ayuda a pagar las facturas mientras Christian construye su negocio de reparación de automóviles.

Una mujer agotada en una tienda | Fuente: Midjourney

Una mujer agotada en una tienda | Fuente: Midjourney

Cuando terminó mi turno, a las 3 de la madrugada, funcionaba con el piloto automático. Me dolían los pies, me palpitaba la cabeza y sólo podía pensar en nuestro colchón de espuma llamándome por mi nombre.

Apenas recordaba el camino de vuelta a casa, aunque estoy segura de que mantuve una conversación fascinante con una señal de stop que confundí con un guardia de tráfico.

La casa estaba oscura y silenciosa cuando llegué. No era nada inusual. Me quité los zapatos de una patada, dejando un rastro de ropa desde la puerta hasta nuestro dormitorio, como un Hansel y Gretel muy cansado y confuso.

La luz de la calle que se filtraba a través de las cortinas me iluminó lo suficiente para distinguir una figura bajo las sábanas. Perfecto. Christian ya estaba en casa y dormido. La idea me hizo sonreír.

Una mujer de pie en el dormitorio | Fuente: Midjourney

Una mujer de pie en el dormitorio | Fuente: Midjourney

Me metí bajo las sábanas, acurrucándome contra lo que creía que era la cálida espalda de mi marido. El olor familiar de nuestro detergente se mezcló con algo más. ¿Quizá una colonia nueva?

Estaba demasiado agotada para pensar en ello, aunque me pregunté brevemente por qué de repente sentía su brazo más voluminoso, casi como un muslo. ¡Debe de ser una de esas cosas que pasan durante el matrimonio! razoné en mi estado de falta de sueño.

“Cariño”, susurré, acurrucándome más. “Esta noche hueles diferente. Como a whisky rebajado y a malas decisiones. Me gusta”. Solté una risita, pasando los dedos por lo que creía que era el pelo de Christian. “Muy sexy. Muy misterioso”.

La figura permaneció en silencio.

Un hombre tumbado junto a una mujer en la cama | Fuente: Pexels

Un hombre tumbado junto a una mujer en la cama | Fuente: Pexels

Sintiéndome juguetona a pesar de mi agotamiento, froté mi pierna contra la suya, intentando ser seductora. En lugar de la habitual piel suave, sentí algo diferente. Muy diferente.

“Cariño -murmuré, sin dejar de frotar mi pierna contra la suya-, ¿cuándo se convirtieron tus piernas en un césped desmesurado? ¿Te has unido a algún grupo de apoyo a los hombres lobo mientras yo estaba en el trabajo? Porque tengo que decir que toda esta situación de pie grande que tienes ahí abajo es inesperada”.

Seguía sin responder.

“Te haces el duro, ¿eh? murmuré. “Bueno, dos pueden jugar a ese juego, Sr. Oso Silencioso y Lechero. Pero antes, déjame que te hable de ese cliente loco que intentó pagar su granizado con dinero falso”.

Seguía sin responder.

Una mujer sospechosa en la cama | Fuente: Midjourney

Una mujer sospechosa en la cama | Fuente: Midjourney

“Vaya, estás muy comprometido con este tratamiento del silencio”, bostecé, dándole una palmadita en lo que supuse que era su hombro. “No pasa nada, cariño. Mañana podemos hablar de cómo te salieron pelos en las piernas y te convertiste en el primo de pie grande. Seguro que hay una explicación perfectamente razonable”.

Me quedé dormida. Entonces, en plena noche, mi teléfono zumbó con un mensaje de texto de… CHRISTIAN

“Hola, nena, salgo del bar con unos amigos. Estaré en casa en 5 minutos. ¡¿Sigues despierta?! 😜😘”.

Mi cerebro tardó exactamente tres segundos en procesar esta información. Si Christian estaba en el bar, ¿entonces QUIÉN demonios estaba durmiendo cerca de mí?

Una mujer asustada en la cama sujetando un teléfono | Fuente: Midjourney

Una mujer asustada en la cama sujetando un teléfono | Fuente: Midjourney

Me eché hacia atrás tan rápido que casi me caigo de la cama, llevándome la mitad de las sábanas conmigo y envolviéndome como un burrito aterrorizado.

“¡Eh!”, grité, con la voz saltando tres octavas. “¡Despierta! A menos que seas un sueño muy realista, en cuyo caso, ¡desaparece, por favor!”.

La figura bostezó y se dio la vuelta, mostrando un rostro que no había visto en mi vida. Un hombre de pelo oscuro despeinado y barba desaliñada me parpadeó confundido.

“¿QUÉ DEMONIOS? ¿QUIÉN ERES Y QUÉ HACES EN MI CAMA?”, grité, agarrando el arma más cercana que encontré: una botella de agua medio vacía de mi mesilla de noche.

Un hombre bostezando | Fuente: Midjourney

Un hombre bostezando | Fuente: Midjourney

“¡Acabo de frotarte las piernas peludas! No puedes quedarte ahí tumbado y fingir que no ha pasado nada”.

El desconocido se incorporó, mirando alrededor de la habitación con ojos vidriosos. “¿Por qué gritas en mi habitación? ¿Qué piernas peludas?”.

“¿Tu dormitorio? Éste es MI DORMITORIO, ¡invasor de hogares!”.

Sin pensarlo, destapé la botella de agua y se la tiré directamente por la cabeza. Balbuceó, de repente parecía mucho más despierto y mucho más confuso.

Una mujer enfadada señalando con el dedo | Fuente: Midjourney

Una mujer enfadada señalando con el dedo | Fuente: Midjourney

“¿Qué? ¿Ésta no es mi habitación? Parpadeó, con el agua cayéndole por la cara. “¿Dónde está mi lámpara escandinava? ¿Y mi colección de patitos de goma? ¿Y mi recorte de cartón de tamaño natural de ese cocinero gritón de la tele?”.

Fue entonces cuando oí abrirse la puerta principal.

“¿Cariño? gritó la voz de Christian. “¿Por qué está toda tu ropa en el pasillo? ¿Has vuelto a intentar hacer un puente de ropa hasta el dormitorio?”.

Apareció en la puerta y su sonrisa desapareció al instante. ¿”RHEA”? ¿Qué demonios está pasando? ¿Quién es este tío? ¿Qué hace en nuestro dormitorio? ¿En nuestra cama? ¿CONTIGO?”.

Un hombre totalmente conmocionado | Fuente: Midjourney

Un hombre totalmente conmocionado | Fuente: Midjourney

“¡Christian, puedo explicártelo!”. Levanté las manos. “Acabo de llegar a casa y…”

“¿Qué?”. La cara de Christian se ensombreció al entrar en la habitación. “¿Es por esto por lo que últimamente estás ‘muy cansada’?”.

“¡Cariño, tenemos un intruso!”. Cogí mi bata de la silla, envolviéndome con ella. “¡Literalmente, acabo de encontrarlo aquí! Creía que eras tú. La habitación estaba a oscuras y yo…”.

Una mujer aturdida | Fuente: Midjourney

Una mujer aturdida | Fuente: Midjourney

El desconocido se levantó, balanceándose ligeramente. “Espera, espera”. Entrecerró los ojos y miró la foto familiar de la pared. “Ésa no es la foto de mi boda. Esa gente ni siquiera lleva disfraces de dinosaurio”.

“¡Claro que no es la foto de tu boda!”, espeté. “¡Ésta no es tu casa! ¿Y qué clase de boda tiene disfraces de dinosaurio?”.

“¡Una impresionante!”, respondió solemnemente, todavía chorreando agua.

“Soy Max”, continuó, pasándose las manos por el pelo mojado. “Me acabo de mudar ayer a la casa de al lado. ¿En el número 42? ¿La casa del flamenco de plástico con sombrero de copa?”.

“Somos el 24”. Christian se cruzó de brazos. “La casa con el enano de jardín montado en una moto”.

Un hombre sujetándose la cabeza | Fuente: Midjourney

Un hombre sujetándose la cabeza | Fuente: Midjourney

“¡Ah!”. Max asintió sabiamente. “Eso explica muchas cosas, en realidad. Verás, estaba en un bar y tenían un bourbon increíble… y luego tenían más bourbon increíble… y luego el bourbon empezó a tener bourbon…”.

No pude evitarlo y se me escapó una risita. Christian me lanzó una mirada, pero pude ver cómo se le movía la comisura de los labios.

“Y perdí las llaves -continuó Max-, pero vi una ventana abierta en la cocina que era exactamente igual a la mía, salvo que, al parecer, no era mía, a menos que alguien me robara los patitos de goma y el recortable del chef de la tele mientras estaba fuera”.

“¡Porque son casas idénticas, amigo!”, terminó Christian, sacudiendo la cabeza.

Un hombre sonriendo | Fuente: Midjourney

Un hombre sonriendo | Fuente: Midjourney

“En mi defensa”, dijo Max, todavía empapado, “tus cojines son muy parecidos a los míos. Aunque los tuyos tienen menos manchas de tacos. Además, nadie había comparado nunca mis piernas con un césped crecido. Prefiero pensar en ellas como un jardín orgánico”.

A estas alturas, ya me estaba partiendo de risa. Lo absurdo de la situación, el alivio de que no fuera algo peor y quizá un poco de histeria por falta de sueño, todo a la vez.

“No me puedo creer que mi mujer se haya acurrucado con nuestro vecino borracho que se ha colado por la ventana”, se rio Christian, y se le pasó el enfado. “Y al parecer le frotó las piernas peludas”.

“No puedo creer que siga mojado”, se rio Max. “¡Mi esposa se partirá de risa cuando llegue mañana y se entere de esto!”.

Una mujer riendo | Fuente: Midjourney

Una mujer riendo | Fuente: Midjourney

Cuando todos nos calmamos, Christian suspiró. “Mira, tío, son casi las 4 de la mañana. Sigues borracho y no voy a dejar que intentes entrar en más casas esta noche”.

“El sofá es bastante cómodo”, le ofrecí. “¡Aunque no viene con una lámpara escandinava de regalo!”.

“Es mejor que la cárcel”, añadió Christian con una sonrisa. “O volver a intentar encontrar el camino de vuelta a la casa equivocada”.

Un hombre sonriente señalando algo con el dedo | Fuente: Midjourney

Un hombre sonriente señalando algo con el dedo | Fuente: Midjourney

A la mañana siguiente, me desperté con el olor a café y el sonido de las risas en la cocina. Encontré a Christian y Max sentados en la barra del desayuno, compartiendo historias como viejos amigos.

“Así que allí estaba yo”, decía Max, “absolutamente convencido de que alguien había redecorado toda mi casa mientras yo estaba fuera”.

“¡Sustituyendo al mismo tiempo todas tus fotos familiares por las de unos desconocidos!”. terminó Christian, deslizándome una taza de café.

Un hombre alegre con una taza de café en la mano | Fuente: Midjourney

Un hombre alegre con una taza de café en la mano | Fuente: Midjourney

“Tu mujer es una desconocida muy convincente”. Max levantó la taza. “Aunque aún estoy esperando a oír cómo acaba esa historia de granizados”.

“Espera a oír cómo nos conocimos Christian y yo”, dije, sentándome en un taburete. “Tiene que ver con una reparación de un Automóvil que salió mal y un perro muy enfadado”.

“¡Esa sí que es una historia que necesito oír!”, dijo Max.

Y así fue como nuestra extraña noche se convirtió en una mañana aún mejor y en el comienzo de una inesperada amistad.

Una mujer encantada en la cocina | Fuente: Midjourney

Una mujer encantada en la cocina | Fuente: Midjourney

He aquí otra historia: La vida de un hombre afligido y solitario se ilumina de alegría cuando encuentra a un bebé abandonado en la puerta de su casa. Adopta al niño y lo cría. Pero 17 años después, un extraño llega para destrozar su mundo.

Esta obra se inspira en hechos y personas reales, pero se ha ficcionalizado con fines creativos. Se han cambiado nombres, personajes y detalles para proteger la intimidad y mejorar la narración. Cualquier parecido con personas reales, vivas o muertas, o con hechos reales es pura coincidencia y no es intención del autor.

El autor y el editor no garantizan la exactitud de los acontecimientos ni la representación de los personajes, y no se hacen responsables de ninguna interpretación errónea. Esta historia se proporciona “tal cual”, y las opiniones expresadas son las de los personajes y no reflejan los puntos de vista del autor ni del editor.

Suscríbete a AmoMama para leer las mejores historias del espectáculo y el mundo en un solo lugar.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*