Staging a fake wedding seemed like the perfect revenge on my cheating ex, but I never expected what happened next. As I walked down the aisle with a hired actor as my groom, little did I know how this elaborate charade would completely change the course of my life.
Jack and I had been together for five years. High school sweethearts. We met in sophomore year when we were paired up for a chemistry project. The irony isn’t lost on me now — our chemistry was undeniable from the start.
Late nights studying turned into stolen kisses in the library stacks. Homecoming dances, prom night, graduation — Jack was by my side through it all.
I thought we were rock solid, destined for forever. We had our whole lives planned out: finish college, get married, buy a house in our hometown, start a family. It was a simple dream, but it was ours. Or so I thought.
Then, six months ago, my world shattered. I found out Jack was cheating on me with Emily, one of my best friends since middle school. The betrayal cut deep on both fronts.
I discovered their affair in the most clichéd way possible — walking in on them at Emily’s apartment when Jack was supposed to be “working late.”
The image of them tangled together in Emily’s bed is seared into my brain. I remember every excruciating detail.
I was devastated and furious. How could they both betray me like that? Jack tried to explain, to apologize, but his words were just noise. Emily cried, saying it “just happened” and she never meant to hurt me. As if that made it better.
After the initial shock and sadness wore off, the real torture began. Jack and Emily started flaunting their relationship all over social media. At first, it was subtle — likes and comments on each other’s posts. Then came the cute couple selfies, shots of romantic date nights and inside jokes in the comments.
How could he move on so quickly while I was still picking up the pieces of my broken heart? I was suffering while Jack was living his best life. Each smile, each loving glance captured on camera felt like a personal attack. Didn’t he feel any guilt? Any remorse for throwing away five years together?
That’s when I hatched my crazy revenge plan: a fake wedding. If Jack wanted to show off his new relationship, I’d show him I could do one better. I’d stage the most picture-perfect wedding and flood social media with photos of my “perfect” new life.
I called my friend Kira, the only one I trusted with this insane scheme. “Hey, you still know that actor guy? Tom, right?”
“Yeah, why?” Kira sounded suspicious.
“I need a favor. A big one.”
I outlined my plan to Kira, expecting her to tell me I was crazy. Instead, after a long pause, she said, “You know what? Let’s do it. Jack deserves to squirm a little.”
Two days later, I was sitting across from Tom in a coffee shop, outlining my ridiculous plan. Tom was everything Jack wasn’t — tall, dark-haired, with an easy smile and a mischievous glint in his eye.
“So let me get this straight,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “You want me to pretend to be your groom at a fake wedding?”
I nodded, feeling a bit ridiculous but still determined. “I know it sounds crazy, but after what Jack did… I need this.”
“I’m in,” Tom interrupted, grinning. “Sounds like fun. Plus, it’ll be great practice for my acting reel.”
Over the next few weeks, I threw myself into wedding planning with a fervor that surprised even me. Every decision was made with social media in mind. How would this look in photos? What would make Jack and Emily the most jealous?
I chose a venue that I knew Jack had always loved — a picturesque barn on the outskirts of town. My dress was a designer knock-off, but in photos, it would look like I’d splurged on the real thing. I even went as far as to hire a professional photographer friend to capture every moment of our “special day.”
“You sure about this?” Kira asked as we picked out flowers. “It’s not too late to back out.”
“Absolutely,” I lied, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. Was I taking this too far? But then I’d remember Jack and Emily’s latest couples post — a sunset beach pic with the caption “Never been happier” — and my resolve would harden.
The day of the fake wedding arrived, bringing with it a flurry of activity. Hair, makeup, last-minute decorations — it all felt surreal. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my veil, when Tom knocked on the door.
“Ready to get fake married?” he grinned, looking dashing in a tailored tux.
I took a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be.”
The ceremony was surprisingly convincing. Tom played his part perfectly, his vows so heartfelt I almost believed them myself. As we exchanged rings and sealed our “union” with a kiss, I couldn’t help but think of Jack. This was supposed to be us, once upon a time.
After the ceremony, we posed for countless photos. Tom’s arm around my waist felt oddly comforting. We laughed and joked between shots, our chemistry apparent even through the lens.
“You’re a natural,” I murmured as we smiled for another shot.
“What can I say? I’m a method actor,” he winked, pulling me close for a staged romantic moment.
The reception was a whirlwind of fake toasts, first dances, and cake cutting. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, but beneath the act, I felt a genuine lightness I hadn’t experienced in months.
That night, I posted a flurry of wedding photos on social media. “Found my true love,” I captioned one. “New beginnings,” on another. My finger hovered over the post button for a moment before I pressed it decisively. This was it. My grand gesture of moving on.
It didn’t take long for my phone to explode with notifications. Friends congratulating me, family members confused — and then, Jack.
“You couldn’t wait to flaunt your new guy? Pathetic,” his message read.
I smirked, feeling a twisted sense of satisfaction. But as I lay in bed that night, doubt crept in. What had I really accomplished? Was this elaborate charade really going to make me feel better?
The next morning, I met Tom for coffee to debrief. As we talked, I found myself opening up about Jack, the betrayal, and how lost I’d felt these past six months. Tom listened with genuine empathy, offering insights I hadn’t considered.
“You know,” he said, stirring his latte thoughtfully, “sometimes the best revenge is just being happy. Really happy, not this fake Instagram version.”
His words struck a chord. We ended up talking for hours, long after our coffee had gone cold. Tom was funny, kind, and surprisingly easy to talk to. As we said goodbye, I found myself wishing our time together wasn’t just an act.
Over the next few weeks, Tom and I kept in touch. What started as casual meetups to maintain our “newlywed” facade for social media turned into real dates. It felt natural, effortless, nothing like the performance we’d put on for my revenge scheme.
We went hiking, tried new restaurants, spent lazy Sundays binge-watching TV shows. I found myself laughing more and thinking about Jack less. The pain was still there, but it was dulled, overshadowed by this new, unexpected connection.
“So,” Tom said one night over dinner, about two months after our “wedding,” “are we going to talk about how our fake relationship turned into a real one?”
I laughed, feeling a warmth spread through my chest. “I guess we should, huh?”
We decided to give it a shot, for real this time. But our unconventional start didn’t go unnoticed.
“Are you sure about this?” Kira asked when I told her. “It’s not just part of the act?”
“It’s real,” I assured her. “Unexpected, but real.”
Of course, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. When the truth about our fake wedding came out — as secrets inevitably do — we faced backlash from friends and family who felt deceived. Jack even tried to use it as ammunition, painting me as unstable and manipulative.
But Tom stood by me through it all. We weathered the storm together, emerging stronger on the other side. And slowly, people came around, seeing the genuine happiness we’d found in each other.
As I reflected on everything that happened, I couldn’t help but marvel at the journey. What started as a misguided attempt at revenge led me to true love and personal growth I never expected.
I realized that the best revenge wasn’t about making Jack jealous — it was about finding genuine happiness for myself.
Life has a funny way of working out sometimes. And while I wouldn’t recommend staging a fake wedding as a path to happiness, I can’t regret the choices that led me here — to Ryan, to love, and to a future brighter than I ever imagined.
What would you have done? If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about a woman whose best friend refused to believe her husband was cheating on her, so she set up a foolproof trap, unprepared for the explosive consequences.
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.
‘That’s for Mommy’s Friend’: Little Girl’s Reveal Almost Cost Me My Job—Story of the Day
I worked as a nanny. My little Thea was my sunshine, making my days fly by. One afternoon, she found a man’s wallet full of cash under her bed. I took it to Thea’s father, but he said it wasn’t his. “It’s for Mommy’s friend!” That phrase nearly cost me my job later on.
I had been working in Max’s household for a few weeks, and the routine had become second nature. I would wake up early each morning to prepare breakfast for 6-year-old Thea.
The kitchen was always filled with the warm aroma of pancakes and freshly squeezed orange juice. We often cooked together.
“Good morning, sunshine!”
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I greeted Thea one morning as the little girl shuffled into the kitchen.
Her eyes were still heavy with sleep.
“Good morning, Anna.”
She climbed onto a stool at the kitchen island. I set a plate of pancakes in front of her.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Do you want blueberries or strawberries today?”
“Blueberries, please.”
As I watched Thea eat, I thought about my huge love for this little girl.
“You’re my little blueberry, you know that?”
Thea giggled. “I know.”
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After breakfast, I helped Thea get ready for school.
“Hold still, Thea, I need to get this braid just right.”
“Okay, but can you make it like Elsa’s braid today?”
“Of course, Elsa it is,” I replied, carefully braiding Thea’s curly blonde hair. I tied the end of the braid with a ribbon.
“You look beautiful, Thea.”
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“Thank you, Anna. You always make my hair so pretty,” Thea replied, giving me a big hug.
I had always wanted children of my own but had discovered a few years ago that I couldn’t have any. I loved the girl as if she were my daughter, pouring all my maternal affection into our relationship.
After dropping Thea off at school, I returned home to take care of the household chores.
Veronica, Max’s wife, rarely acknowledged my efforts. She was always busy with her daily pleasures.
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Not even a thank you. But it’s okay. I’m here for Thea.
In the evening, I picked Thea up from school, and we would head back home for dinner. I always made sure Thea had her favorite meals.
“Do you want spaghetti or chicken tonight?”
“Spaghetti!”
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Max, who was constantly busy with work, would join us whenever he could.
“You’re doing a wonderful job, Anna. Thea seems so happy,” he said that evening.
Despite his demanding schedule, he always tried to spend his free moments with his daughter. Thea was his only child from his first marriage, and Veronica didn’t want to have any children of her own.
So, Max poured all his affection and care into Thea and was deeply grateful to me for my dedication and genuine love for his little girl.
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“Thank you, Max. Thea is a special girl. She deserves all the love and attention,” I replied, glancing over at Thea, who was engrossed in a puzzle on the floor.
However, despite the happy moments, I couldn’t ignore the tension that Veronica brought into the household. She spent most of her time away and showed little interest in Thea.
That night, as I tucked Thea into bed.
“Why doesn’t Mommy love me, Anna?”
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My heart broke at the question.
“Oh, sweetheart, you are so loved. I love you very much, and so does your daddy. Sometimes, people don’t show their love in the same way, but that doesn’t mean you’re not special.”
Thea hugged me tightly. “I love you too, Anna.”
I knew my love and support could make a real difference, and I was determined to give Thea the best childhood possible.
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***
One sunny afternoon, Thea and I were playing in the nursery. The room was filled with toys, colorful drawings on the walls, and the soft hum of children’s music playing in the background.
Thea was busy pretending her dolls were having a tea party.
“Anna, can you pour the tea for Daisy?”
“Of course, Daisy,” I replied, carefully pretending to pour invisible tea into a tiny cup.
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As we played, Thea crawled under the bed to retrieve a toy she had dropped.
“Anna, look what I found!”
She emerged holding a man’s wallet.
“Hmm, let’s see what’s inside.”
The wallet was filled with cash! No cards no ID. Just cash.
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This must belong to Max. We should return it to him.
I held Thea’s hand, and we walked downstairs to Max’s home office. He was at his desk, surrounded by papers and his laptop.
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“Max, we found this wallet in Thea’s nursery,” I said, holding it out to him.
“This isn’t mine.”
Just then, Thea, who had been looking around curiously, piped up, “Oh, that’s a toy! That’s for Mommy’s Friend!”
Max and I exchanged a surprised glance.
Before we could say anything, Veronica walked in. She noticed the wallet in Max’s hand and immediately narrowed her eyes.
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“What’s going on here?”
“We found this wallet in Thea’s nursery. Thea said it belongs to one of your friends.”
Veronica’s eyes flashed.
“That’s ridiculous! Anna, you must have taken this from one of the workers!”
“I would never…” I began, but Max interrupted.
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“Veronica, that’s enough. Anna is always with Thea. She wouldn’t do something like that.”
Veronica’s face twisted with anger.
Max continued, “I trust Anna. This is a misunderstanding.”
Veronica huffed, “How can you be so sure? You barely know her!”
Max stood his ground.
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“I know enough to trust her. And I trust Thea’s word too. If she says it’s a toy, then it’s a toy.”
Veronica glared at me, but I held my head high. I had nothing to hide.
Veronica shot me one last icy look before storming out of the room.
As she passed by me, she leaned in and whispered, “You’re finished.”
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Max turned to me. “I’m sorry about that, Anna. Veronica can be… difficult.”
“It’s alright, Max. I understand.”
As Thea and I left the office, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. Veronica’s reaction was harsh and unfounded.
Why is she so eager to accuse me?
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***
The following afternoon, Veronica called me into the living room. She was sitting elegantly on the sofa, watching me carefully.
“Anna, I was thinking of taking Thea out for a walk this afternoon. Why don’t you stay here and prepare dinner?”
I hesitated for a moment, but couldn’t find a reason to object.
“Sure, Veronica,” I replied, trying to sound cheerful.
“Great. Thea loves the playground, so we’ll be there if you need us.”
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I headed to the kitchen, watching from the window as Veronica and Thea walked down the path to the playground. I busied myself with chopping vegetables.
“It’s just a walk,” I told myself. “Everything will be fine.”
Half an hour later, I heard the front door open and close.
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Max’s voice echoed through the house, “I’m home!”
I wiped my hands on a towel and walked out to greet him.
“Hi, Max. How was your day?”
“Busy as always,” he replied, glancing around. “Where’s Thea?”
“Veronica took her to the playground. They should be back soon.”
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“The playground? By themselves?”
Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his coat and headed out the door.
I stood there, a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“Please let everything be alright,” I whispered.
It felt like an eternity before Max returned, holding a very upset Thea by the hand. Her clothes were dirty, and she had a scrape on her knee.
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“Max, what happened?” I asked, rushing over.
Max’s face was a storm of anger.
“I found Thea playing alone at the playground. Veronica was nowhere in sight!”
“I didn’t know, Max. I swear I thought Veronica was with her the whole time.”
Veronica was listening to our conversation at the doorway.
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“Max, I just went to the store for a minute. I was sure Thea’s playing with Anna.”
Max turned to me, his anger misdirected.
“Anna, you should have been with her. This is unacceptable.”
“But, Max…” I started, but he cut me off.
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“No excuses, Anna. Pack your things. You’re fired.”
Tears filled my eyes as I nodded, too shocked to argue. I headed upstairs to pack.
This can’t be happening. How did everything go so wrong?
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***
As I walked down the stairs with my suitcase, Veronica stood in the hallway, a smug look on her face.
She had orchestrated this whole thing, and I had fallen right into her trap. I kept walking, trying to ignore the satisfaction in her eyes.
I saw Thea running towards me, tears streaming down her face. “Anna, please don’t go! Please!”
I knelt to her level, my own eyes filling with tears.
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“I don’t want to leave either, Thea, but I have to.”
Thea turned to her father, who was standing in the doorway.
“Daddy, please let Anna stay! Veronica never plays with me. She’s always with her friend when you’re not here. I want to stay with Anna!”
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Max frowned. “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
Thea wiped her eyes.
“Veronica has a friend who comes over a lot. They play in her room while I watch cartoons. She even has pictures of him on her phone.”
Max’s face darkened. “Is this true, Thea?”
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“Yes, Daddy. Yesterday at the playground, Veronica left me alone while she went to talk to him.”
Max looked stunned. He turned to Veronica, who had just walked in. “Veronica, is this true?”
Veronica’s face twisted with anger. “This is ridiculous! She’s just a child. What does she know?”
“Thea wouldn’t lie about this. Why didn’t you tell me about this ‘friend’?”
Veronica lost her temper.
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“Because you’re never around, Max! You’re always at work. I have no life, no one to talk to. And you spend all your free time with Thea, ignoring me completely!”
“That doesn’t justify your actions. You put Thea in danger and lied to me.”
Veronica glared at me. “This is all your fault, Anna. You turned them against me.”
I was trying to stay calm. “Veronica, all I’ve ever wanted is to take care of Thea. She needs love and attention.”
Max raised his hand.
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“I’ve heard enough. Your actions are unjustifiable, Veronica. You put Thea in danger, and I can’t forgive that. You should leave.”
Veronica looked shocked.
“You’re kicking me out? For her?”
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She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. I held Thea close as she sobbed into my shoulder. Max approached us, his eyes softening.
“Anna, I’m so sorry. I didn’t see what was happening. Please, stay and help us through this.”
“Of course, Max. I’ll always be here for Thea.”
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***
In the days that followed, I stayed on as Thea’s nanny. Max began to spend more time with his daughter.
We spent our days playing games, having picnics in the garden, and enjoying family dinners. It felt like we were becoming a real family.
Sometimes, as I watched Max and Thea together, I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like if we truly were one. Those thoughts crept into my mind more often than I’d like to admit.
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One evening, as I was tucking Thea into bed, Max knocked on the doorframe.
“Anna, can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Of course, Max,” I said, giving Thea a final kiss on the forehead before stepping out into the hallway.
Max looked a bit nervous, which was unusual for him.
“I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me tomorrow. Just the two of us.”
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“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“Yes, I am. We’ve been through a lot, and I’d like to spend some time with you outside of the house.”
I agreed, feeling a flutter of excitement. As I headed to my room to prepare for the next day, I couldn’t help but smile.
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Prue arrived at my Mom’s wedding and found a note under her plate. “Help me!” The handwriting was the same as on the invitation. It wasn’t Mom’s, so… it must be Colin’s! Prue followed him and saw something that soon turned the family party into a big scandal. Read the full story here.
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