On Our Wedding Night, I Took off My Wedding Dress – When My Husband Saw What Was Underneath, He Ran Away in Tears

“No, this can’t be happening!” My husband’s anticipation for our wedding night turned to horror when I took off my wedding dress. I’d been keeping the secret of what lay beneath my dress all day, but it was finally time to expose a shocking revelation.

I had a perfect fairytale wedding. Greg stood at the end of the aisle, beaming like he’d just won the lottery. See, Greg thought this was the start of our perfect life together, but I knew the truth.

A bride with a cunning smile | Source: Midjourney

A bride with a cunning smile | Source: Midjourney

That perfect bubble we were living in was about to burst. But not yet, not until I was ready to pop it.

The reception went on like a dream — champagne glasses clinking, laughter echoing across the perfectly manicured lawns, and Greg’s parents playing the role of doting in-laws. After all, their perfect little boy deserved the perfect little day, didn’t he?

And me? I played my part. I smiled at the right moments and laughed when someone told us a joke. I even danced with Greg like everything was just fine.

A couple on their wedding day | Source: Midjourney

A couple on their wedding day | Source: Midjourney

Greg thought he knew me. He thought he had me all figured out, but he was wrong.

As the night wore on, Greg’s anticipation for our wedding night became almost unbearable. He couldn’t hide it, not that he was trying to.

His touches lingered too long, and his smile was too wide. I felt like a performer on stage, playing a part that had been written for me long before I even agreed to put on the dress. But I had my own script.

A bride | Source: Midjourney

A bride | Source: Midjourney

We finally said our goodbyes to the guests, thanking them for coming and accepting their compliments about how beautiful everything had been. Greg’s parents stayed downstairs in the guest rooms, giving us privacy, and Greg couldn’t wait to get me upstairs.

His hand tightened around mine as he led me to the master suite, the same one his parents had graciously let us use for our first night together as husband and wife. How poetic.

He was practically giddy as he closed the door behind us.

A man closing a door | Source: Midjourney

A man closing a door | Source: Midjourney

The atmosphere in the room shifted, the excitement in the air becoming almost tangible. I could see it in his eyes as he came toward me, his hands already reaching for the zipper of my wedding dress.

“I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he murmured against my neck, his breath hot and full of promise.

I smiled, a small, secret smile that he couldn’t see. “Me too.”

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

He carefully unzipped my dress. I stood perfectly still, my heart racing. He was so eager, so confident in what was coming next. He didn’t have a clue.

When the dress finally fell to the floor, I turned around slowly. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he saw what was underneath. He looked like a man standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering, trying to keep his balance.

“No…” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. “No, no, no! This can’t be happening!”

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney

The tattoo of Greg’s ex, Sarah, stretched across my torso, down to my waist. The words he’d said to her the night before our wedding were perfectly inscribed beneath her face: “One last taste of freedom before I’m bound to the same body forever.”

It was temporary, sure. But Greg didn’t know that. It was authentic enough to make his knees buckle beneath him.

“How did you know?” He sobbed, his gaze fixed on the tattoo.

A man on his knees | Source: Midjourney

A man on his knees | Source: Midjourney

“Sarah was only too eager to rub your betrayal in my face,” I spat.

“I didn’t mean it,” he sobbed, his voice thick with regret. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it!”

That’s when we heard the footsteps. Marianne and James burst through the door, their faces full of concern.

“What’s going on?” Marianne’s voice trembled as her eyes darted between her sobbing son and me. Then, her gaze fell on the tattoo. Her face went white.

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

“It’s simple,” I replied. “Greg cheated on me.”

Marianne’s gasp filled the room, sharp and full of disbelief. James, Greg’s father, stood frozen in the doorway. He was always the stoic one, the quiet type who let Marianne handle the dramatics. But this? This was something even he couldn’t swallow.

He wasn’t a man of many words, but the tension in his clenched fists, the way his jaw tightened — he didn’t need to say anything. It was all right there in his expression.

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, silence stretched between us. The weight of the truth hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Greg was still on the floor, hands gripping his hair as if that would somehow keep him from falling apart completely.

Marianne’s gaze flicked back to Greg, her lips quivering. “Greg? Is this true?”

She took a shaky step toward him, her voice fragile, like she was begging him to tell her that what she was seeing wasn’t real, that her son couldn’t have done something so unforgivable.

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

An emotional woman | Source: Midjourney

Greg didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His whole body was trembling, his shoulders shaking as sobs wracked his chest.

“Tell me!” Marianne’s voice cracked, breaking under the pressure of her disbelief. “Tell me it’s not true!”

James stepped forward. His face was like stone, but I could see the fury simmering beneath the surface. He towered over Greg, his hands balled into fists, his whole body radiating a barely contained rage.

“Gregory,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Is this true?”

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

An angry man | Source: Midjourney

Still, Greg couldn’t bring himself to respond. His sobs had quieted, but he remained a crumpled mess on the floor, unable to face the reality of what he had done. I decided to step in.

“He slept with her the night before our wedding,” I said, my voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “He told her he needed ‘one last taste of freedom before he was bound to the same body forever.’”

Marianne let out a strangled sob, collapsing onto the edge of the bed as her world came crashing down around her.

A woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a bed | Source: Midjourney

James’s face darkened. His nostrils flared as he glared down at his son. Disgust and disappointment warring in his expression.

“You’ve disgraced this family,” he spat, his voice tight with fury. “How dare you? How could you betray Lilith like this?”

Greg’s head snapped up, his eyes wild with panic. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I-I made a mistake.”

“A mistake?” I echoed, my voice rising with incredulity.

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney

A furious woman | Source: Midjourney

“You call sleeping with your ex the night before our wedding a mistake?” I stepped closer to him, the rage I’d been holding back finally bubbling to the surface. “No, you made a choice, Greg. A deliberate, calculated choice to betray me. And now you’re paying for it.”

Greg turned his tear-streaked face toward me, his eyes wide with desperation. “Please, Lilith… please, I love you. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I’ll do anything! Just please, don’t leave me.”

I laughed then, a cold, hollow sound that echoed through the room.

A grimacing woman | Source: Midjourney

A grimacing woman | Source: Midjourney

“Love me? You love me?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Greg, you don’t know the first thing about love. If you did, you wouldn’t have done what you did. You wouldn’t have betrayed me like that.”

He reached for me, his hands trembling, his eyes pleading. “Please… I’m begging you.”

I stepped back, letting him fall short, my eyes hard and unfeeling. “I’m done, Greg. This is over. You destroyed us the moment you decided to crawl back to Sarah.”

His father, James, stepped forward then, his voice a low growl.

A furious man | Source: Midjourney

A furious man | Source: Midjourney

“Get up,” he ordered Greg, his patience finally wearing thin. “Get up and face what you’ve done.”

Greg hesitated for a moment, then slowly pushed himself to his feet, his knees still wobbling beneath him. He looked so pathetic, standing there in his wrinkled wedding suit, his face streaked with tears, his whole world crumbling around him.

I turned to Marianne and James, who were still trying to process the fallout. Marianne’s face was red and swollen from crying, while James’s expression was a storm of disappointment and fury.

A serious woman | Source: Midjourney

A serious woman | Source: Midjourney

“I’m leaving,” I announced, my voice steady and calm, the decision final. “You can deal with him now.”

“Lilith, please,” Greg begged one last time, his voice breaking. “Please don’t go.”

But I was already done. I turned away from him, from the mess of our ruined wedding night, and reached for my robe. I slipped it over my shoulders, covering the tattoo, and made my way toward the door.

“Lilith,” Greg called after me, his voice full of desperation. “I’ll change! I’ll make it right!”

A pleading man | Source: Midjourney

A pleading man | Source: Midjourney

But I didn’t even bother to respond. There was nothing left to say.

As I stepped out of the room, I heard James’s voice, low and furious, booming through the silence. “This is what you’ve done, Greg. You’ve ruined everything.”

And then, Greg’s pitiful sobs. His cries echoed through the house, but they didn’t touch me. I walked down the stairs, feeling lighter with every step. I was free. Free from him, free from the lies, free from the betrayal.

A woman on a staircase | Source: Midjourney

A woman on a staircase | Source: Midjourney

Here’s another story: When Kate’s idea to prank her husband during a late-night drive instead causes him to panic, the joke takes a dark turn. As minutes tick by and Greg goes missing, Kate’s harmless prank spirals into a tense search, leaving her wondering if she’s gone too far.

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.

My Father Went Fishing with His Friends and Forgot My 18th Birthday

Ryder’s 18th birthday should have been a milestone celebration, but the absence of his father left him feeling deeply disappointed. Learning that his dad chose a fishing trip with friends over spending time with him only added to his heartbreak. However, what happened next led Ryder to see things in a new light. Let me introduce myself—I’m Ryder, and I recently turned 18. Before I dive into the story of my birthday, let me share a bit about my life. Things were pretty normal until I turned seven. That’s when the arguments between my mom and dad began. I didn’t fully understand what was happening at the time, but I could sense the tension. By the time I was eight, my dad was gone. I remember clearly the day my mom sat me down and explained, “Ryder, sweetie, your father won’t be living with us anymore. But you can still see him whenever you want, okay?”My heart skipped a beat.
“But why, Mom? Did I do something wrong?” Mom’s eyes welled up with tears, but she smiled gently. “Oh, no, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. This isn’t your fault at all.” “Then why is Dad leaving?” I asked, desperate for answers. She took a deep breath. “Well, sometimes grown-ups just can’t live together anymore. Your dad and I tried really hard to make things work, but sometimes things just don’t turn out the way we hope.” “Can’t you try harder?” I pleaded, not ready to accept the reality. She pulled me into a hug. “We did try, Ryder. For a long time. But sometimes, the kindest thing we can do is to live apart. Your dad and I will both always love you, and that won’t ever change. We just won’t be living in the same house anymore.” And just like that, my parents were divorced. After the divorce, Mom took a job as an elementary school teacher, working tirelessly to give me a good life. I’ll always be grateful for that. But my dad? He became like a ghost in my life—always busy with work, friends, and his hobbies, especially fishing. Every weekend, he’d vanish with his buddies to go fishing, even when Mom reminded him that I’d be visiting. Despite everything, a part of me still longed for his attention. I wanted him to notice me, to be proud of me. So, I spent years trying to win his approval, hoping that one day he’d realize how much I needed him. But I was wrong. As my 18th birthday approached, I thought maybe, just maybe, he’d show up this time. Turning 18 is a big deal, after all. I planned a small party with Mom and a few close friends. I even texted Dad about it, and his reply gave me hope: “Sounds great! I’ll try to be there.” The day arrived, and Mom went all out—decorating the house, baking my favorite cake, and even surprising me with a new guitar I’d been eyeing for months. Friends started arriving, and the house was soon filled with laughter and excitement. But as the hours passed, there was still no sign of Dad. I kept checking my phone, hoping for a message, but there was nothing. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and decided to call him. When he finally picked up, I could hear the sound of waves and chatter in the background. “Dad, it’s my birthday,” I reminded him, trying to hide the desperation in my voice. “Oh, right. Happy birthday!” he replied casually. “I’m out on the lake with the guys. I’ll catch you later, okay?” I hung up, feeling tears blur my vision. I rushed to my room and hid there until Mom found me. She sat beside me, putting her arm around my shoulders. “I’m sorry, honey. You know how he is.” “I know,” I whispered, trying to stay strong, but inside, I was shattered. The days after my birthday were a blur. I pretended everything was fine, but inside, I felt invisible. Dad’s absence reminded me that I wasn’t important enough for him. Then, a week later, Dad called. He acted as if nothing had happened. “Hey, I got you a gift,” he said.  “Want to come over and get it?” Part of me wanted to tell him to forget it, but another part still held onto that sliver of hope. So, I agreed. When I arrived at his house, he greeted me with a smile and handed me a long, mysterious package. As I unwrapped it, my heart sank—it was a fishing rod. “What do you think?” he asked proudly. “We can go fishing together sometime!” The fishing rod wasn’t just a poorly chosen gift; it was a symbol of his absence, a reminder of the very activity that had taken him away from me. “Thanks, Dad,” I forced a smile. “It’s… great.” He didn’t seem to notice my lack of enthusiasm. “I figured it was time you learned the ropes. You’ll have fun!” He then suggested we go fishing the next weekend, but I knew I couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. “I… I can’t come next weekend, Dad,” I said. “I’ve got plans with Mom.” He frowned for a moment, but then his smile returned. “No worries, we’ll find another time.” But I knew we wouldn’t, and for the first time, I was okay with that. As I left his house holding the rod, I realized it was time to let go of the fantasy and accept the reality. I couldn’t keep chasing after someone who couldn’t be there for me. Over the next few months, I focused on the people who genuinely cared about me—my mom, my friends, and most importantly, myself. I threw myself into my music, practicing guitar for hours, and began helping Mom more around the house, grateful for everything she had done for me. One evening, as we were doing dishes together, Mom asked, “Have you heard from your father lately?” “Nah, but it’s okay. I’m done waiting for him to show up,” I replied. She looked at me with a mix of sadness and understanding. “I’m sorry it turned out this way, Ryder. I always hoped…” “I know, Mom,” I hugged her. “But I’ve got you, and that’s more than enough.” As time passed, I learned that my worth wasn’t tied to Dad’s attention. I found strength in the love and support around me and realized that sometimes people won’t be what you need them to be—and that’s okay. The fishing rod still sits in my closet, untouched. It serves as a reminder, not of what I lost, but of what I gained—self-respect, resilience, and the ability to let go of what I can’t change. What would you have done if you were in my place?

Related Posts

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.


*