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.

I Was Just a Caregiver for an Elderly Lady Until She Revealed Her Plan to Rewrite the Will — Story of the Day

I thought I was just a caregiver for Mrs. Blackwood, a sharp-tongued, secretive woman, until her plan to rewrite the will in my favor, cutting out her children, pulled me into a storm of family secrets.

I was young, unemployed, and full of doubts. A nursing diploma in hand but no job prospects. Higher education in the city felt like a cruel joke. Weeks of failed interviews left me restless, staring at a bleak future.

Then, a small ad in the paper caught my eye:

“Nanny needed for an elderly lady who cannot walk. Live-in position.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

It felt like a lifeline. So, I headed to the interview.

When I arrived at the grand, slightly weathered house, the door was opened by a young man, perhaps in his early twenties.

“You must be here for the nanny position,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m Edward.”

Before I could respond, a young woman appeared behind him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“And I’m Emily. Grandma’s expecting you,” she added, her tone friendly but distant, as if this was a routine chore she wanted to get over with.

They were kind enough to show me inside, but it looked as though they were obligated to be welcoming.

“Grandma’s upstairs,” Edward said as he gestured toward the staircase. “We’ll let her take it from here.”

They disappeared down the hall, leaving me with the distinct impression that they were more like housemates than attentive grandchildren.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Mrs. Blackwood greeted me with a smile that radiated confidence. She was in bed, but everything about her said she was in control. Her hair was perfectly coiffed, her nails polished, and her laughter surprisingly hearty.

“Ah, you must Mia,” she said, her voice warm and commanding. “Come in, dear. Sit down.”

I hesitated for a moment. She didn’t match the frail, helpless image I’d expected.

“Don’t just stand there,” she teased, patting the edge of the bed. “Sit! Have a doughnut. No one should face the world hungry.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Thank you,” I replied, cautiously picking one from the plate on her nightstand.

Her eyes sparkled as she watched me as if she already knew my life story.

“So, tell me,” she began, leaning back slightly, “why do you want this job?”

“I need it. And I believe I can help you,” I said, trying not to overshare.

She nodded. “Honesty. That’s rare these days. Well, Mia, welcome aboard.”

That’s how my life in Lady Blackwood’s house began.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The first few days were uneventful. I followed her routine, listened to her endless stories, and thought maybe this would be simple. But then, the strangeness began.

One morning, a book from the shelf moved beside her bed.

“Did you read this last night, Mrs. Blackwood?” I asked, holding up the book.

“I don’t sleepwalk, dear,” she replied, her lips twitching with amusement.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Then there was the curtain. I distinctly remembered leaving it open, but it was drawn when I returned. And the flowers… They were freshly watered when I hadn’t touched them.

“Are your grandchildren coming to kiss good night?” I asked one morning, trying to sound casual.

“Oh no,” she said with a small laugh. “Edward and Emily have been living here since their parents gone, but they rarely bother to check on me before bed.”

“But… someone’s moving things,” I pressed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“They’ll come when the will is read,” she added, missing my comments.

Her words hung in the air like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Something was off, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Mrs. Blackwood was hiding something from everyone, including her grandchildren.

***

Each new day in the Blackwood household seemed to unravel more mysteries. I decided to make a few changes to Mrs. Blackwood’s routine, not only to make her life more comfortable but also to create a sense of normalcy in the house. Instead of letting her eat alone in her room, I began setting the table in the living room.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“There’s something special about a proper dinner table,” I said, adjusting the silverware. “It feels more… lively, don’t you think?”

Mrs. Blackwood raised an eyebrow, but a faint smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re full of ideas, aren’t you, Mia?”

“And you’re going to love this one,” I said with a wink, pushing her wheelchair closer to the table.

I covered her with a soft blanket and tucked a pillow behind her back for support.

Edward and Emily weren’t as enthusiastic about the change. The first night, they entered the room with wide eyes, as though they had stumbled into a completely foreign world.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“What’s this?” Emily asked, frowning at the neatly set table.

“Dinner,” I replied cheerfully. “It’s nice to eat together, don’t you think?”

Edward hesitated. “But Grandma always eats in her room.”

“Well, not anymore,” I said firmly, pulling out a chair for him. “She deserves company, don’t you agree?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

They exchanged a look, clearly uncomfortable, but sat down anyway.

Later, I introduced the idea of reading nights twice a week.

“It’s simple,” I explained one evening. “We’ll each take turns reading a chapter aloud. Then we can discuss the plot. It’ll be fun, and it’ll give us all something to share.”

Mrs. Blackwood seemed to enjoy it, her laughter often punctuating the room as we stumbled through old classics and lighthearted tales.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But after a few weeks, Edward and Emily began to find excuses to skip. Their absences became more frequent until it was just Mrs. Blackwood and me at the table.

One evening, the four of us gathered for the dinner.

“I’m glad you both joined us tonight,” Mrs. Blackwood began, her voice smooth and warm.

Edward glanced at Emily. “Actually, Grandma, there’s something we wanted to talk to you about.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Emily jumped in before he could finish. “We’ve been thinking… It’s probably best for all of us if Edward and I move out. You’ll still have Mia here to take care of you, of course.”

Mrs. Blackwood tilted her head. “Moved out? Where would you go?”

“We found a place downtown,” Edward explained quickly. “But, um, we’ll need a little help with the deposit and rent.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For a moment, silence hung over the table. Then Mrs. Blackwood gave a slow, deliberate smile that made both Edward and Emily sit up straighter.

“Well, isn’t that convenient,” she said, her voice light but laced with something sharp. “Since we’re all sharing news, I have some of my own.”

Edward frowned. “What news?”

Mrs. Blackwood leaned forward slightly, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Next week, my lawyer will be visiting to make some changes to my will.”

Emily froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Changes?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Blackwood replied. “You see, I’ve decided that everything will go to Mia.”

“You’re joking!” Emily exclaimed.

“Oh, I’m quite serious,” Mrs. Blackwood said, her voice calm. “Mia has shown me the kind of care and respect I haven’t seen from either of you in years. She’s earned it.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“But we’re your grandchildren!” Edward burst out.

“Then perhaps you should start acting like it,” Mrs. Blackwood retorted. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe dinner is getting cold.”

***

Overnight, Edward’s and Emily’s behavior changed in the most absurd ways. Suddenly, they became the epitome of devoted grandchildren, vying for her attention. That was as entertaining as it was ridiculous.

One morning, I walked into the living room to find Edward arranging a vase of bright tulips on the table.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Flowers for you, Grandma,” he said, his tone overly cheerful. “I remember how much you love tulips.”

Mrs. Blackwood glanced at the flowers, unimpressed. “Do you? That’s interesting because I prefer orchids.”

Emily, not to be outdone, burst in a moment later carrying a tray with tea and biscuits.

“Breakfast in the living room today, Grandma! I thought you’d enjoy a change of scenery.”

Mrs. Blackwood raised an eyebrow, sipping the tea. “Well, aren’t you two just angels,” she said dryly. “Too bad you didn’t think of this sooner.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

They were relentless. Their efforts to win her over bordered on comical. Meanwhile, I barely had to lift a finger.

But despite their over-the-top efforts, Mrs. Blackwood remained firm. One evening, after a particularly extravagant dinner prepared by Emily, she announced:

“My decision is final. No amount of flowers or fancy meals will change it.”

The smiles disappeared, replaced by hushed conversations behind closed doors.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The next day, Edward approached me.

“We’ve decided that your services are no longer needed. We can manage taking care of Grandma ourselves.”

It was clear his words were rehearsed, but the tension in his voice betrayed the real motive.

“Alright,” I said finally. “I’ll pack my things.”

As I turned to leave, Mrs. Blackwood called me to her room. She handed me an envelope stuffed with cash.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“It’s time for you to act. Rent a car, park it near the house at midnight, and wait in the garden when the lights go out. Be ready for anything.”

I stared at her, startled. “But what’s going to happen?”

She smiled. “Just trust me. You’ll see soon enough.”

***

I rented the jeep, just as Mrs. Blackwood had instructed. The following night, I drove toward her house and parked the jeep a few streets away, keeping it hidden under the shadows of tall trees.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Taking a deep breath, I got out and crept into the garden, crouching behind the hedge where I had a clear view of the house. Time felt elastic, stretching endlessly as I waited for her signal.

Then, all at once, the lights in the house went out.

My pulse quickened. I fixed my eyes on the windows, every muscle in my body tense. The darkness seemed alive, moving with shadows that weren’t there a moment ago.

Suddenly, the back door creaked open, and a figure in a black cloak emerged. It turned, the face illuminated by the moonlight.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Mrs. Blackwood?” I whispered, unsure if it could really be her.

“Come,” she whispered, moving with a speed and confidence that shocked me.

I hurried after her, struggling to keep up as she navigated the garden like someone half her age. When we reached the jeep, she slid into the driver’s seat without hesitation.

“Wait… you can drive?” I stammered, stunned.

“Of course,” she replied, her tone tinged with amusement. “Did you think I spent all my time in bed for fun?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

As she expertly maneuvered the jeep, she explained everything. The shifting objects, the carefully timed moments of helplessness—it had all been part of her plan.

“My grandchildren have spent their lives waiting for something they didn’t earn. You, Mia, showed me what true care and effort look like. It’s time they learn to stand on their own.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

True to her word, Mrs. Blackwood rewrote her will, leaving nothing to her grandchildren. Instead, she rewarded me generously and donated the rest to charity. Her grandchildren were given a choice: start earning their way or leave without support. Surprisingly, they chose to change.

As for me, I found a place to live and returned to my hospital internship, armed with glowing recommendations from Mrs. Blackwood. That adventure gifted me with an extraordinary friendship with Mrs. Blackwood, who taught me the true value of self-worth.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*