Man Finds Out about His Bride’s Betrayal – He Goes to the Altar with a Remote Control in His Hands

Man Finds Out about His Bride’s Betrayal – He Goes to the Altar with a Remote Control in His Hands

Daphne is in the middle of her brother’s wedding. As a bridesmaid, she has an obligation to Denise. But when Liam surprises them all with a video revealing Denise’s ultimate secrets, Daphne has no choice but to choose her brother—even if what he did was humiliating for Denise.

As my brother’s wedding approached, excitement buzzed through the air, filling everyone with anticipation. My brother, the groom, was a notorious prankster, and his hints at a major surprise had us all on edge.

I thought he was just creating the drama for effect—Liam was that person.

A smiling man looking at the camera | Source: Pexels

A smiling man looking at the camera | Source: Pexels

Liam and his fiancée, Denise, had been dating for so long that it didn’t come as a surprise when she asked me to be one of her bridesmaids.

“Please, Daphne,” she asked, gifting me a box full of goodies. “I need you to be there with me on our big day—you’re not just Liam’s little sister, but mine, too.”

Two gift wrapped boxes | Source: Unsplash

Two gift wrapped boxes | Source: Unsplash

Of course, I accepted. Denise did feel like a sister to me—in fact, she was the one who planned my 21st birthday party instead of the friends that I thought would do it.

So, when it came to wedding planning, I think Denise spent more time talking about their wedding to me than Liam.

Gold 21st foil balloons | Source: Unsplash

Gold 21st foil balloons | Source: Unsplash

“I’m just wasting my time with Liam,” she said. “You can make notes for us. And we can do the wedding cake tasting.”

Liam, on the other hand, seemed like he was doing the bare minimum with the wedding—but the reality is that he was busy putting together a beautiful video for the wedding.

A wedding planner and notebooks | Source: Pexels

A wedding planner and notebooks | Source: Pexels

“I’m going to have it played just before we do our vows,” he said when I went to visit him.

He showed me a folder on his laptop where he was saving all his and Denise’s videos and photos, ready to create the video.

A man using a laptop | Source: Unsplash

A man using a laptop | Source: Unsplash

“Do you think Liam has cold feet?” Denise asked me when we went wedding shopping.

“No,” I replied honestly. “He’s planning something for you, that’s taking all his time at the moment.”

“What?” she asked enthusiastically.

“I’m sworn to secrecy,” I said. “Now, go and try on dresses!”

A row of wedding dresses | Source: Unsplash

A row of wedding dresses | Source: Unsplash

On the morning of the wedding, I got to the hotel suite early. I wanted to see Liam before getting ready with Denise and the other bridesmaids.

“You have no idea what’s coming,” he teased, sipping on a glass of champagne as he got ready.

“Oh boy,” I said. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned.”

Two glasses of champagne |  Source: Unsplash

Two glasses of champagne | Source: Unsplash

The ceremony was perfect—and everything had gone exactly to plan as Denise wanted.

From the flowers to the music to the scented candles that perfumed the venue. It was all perfect.

When the time came for the vows, my brother told the priest to wait.

A couple kneeling before a priest | Source: Unsplash

A couple kneeling before a priest | Source: Unsplash

“I have something to show you all,” he said. “This is Denise and my love story from the beginning to right now.”

He pulled a remote from his pocket with a flourish, while two of his groomsmen wheeled a TV screen to the middle of the altar, just in front of where Liam and Denise were standing.

“Watch this,” he said, stepping back to join his groomsmen. And then he pressed play.

A person holding a remote control | Source: Unsplash

A person holding a remote control | Source: Unsplash

The screen came alive with their love story—their first kiss, snippets from trips together, cozy nights in, dinners cooked together, and so on.

The montage tugged at heartstrings, and all the guests were enthralled.

A close-up of a couple | Source: Unsplash

A close-up of a couple | Source: Unsplash

But the real shock was still to come.

As the video ended, the priest went back to his position, ready to continue the ceremony from where he left off. He called for Denise and Liam to resume their positions, too.

He solemnly asked if anyone objected.

A couple at the altar | Source: Pexels

A couple at the altar | Source: Pexels

Before anyone knew what was happening, Liam dropped Denise’s hand and stepped away, back down the aisle.

“I do,” he declared.

“What?” Denise hissed. “Liam, this isn’t the time for one of your pranks.”

“This isn’t a prank,” he said.

Bride and groom at the altar | Source: Pexels

Bride and groom at the altar | Source: Pexels

He held up the remote control again and pressed another button—the air was thick with tension as music began to fill the room.

This new video was a stark contrast—it showed his bride in their shared home, but Denise wasn’t alone.

Instead, she was wearing lingerie and depicted in a compromising situation with another man.

An intimate photo of a couple | Source: Pexels

An intimate photo of a couple | Source: Pexels

The room fell deathly quiet, every eye glued to the screen, then slowly turning to gauge her reaction at my brother’s reveal.

Denise turned around slowly to face her guests, her face ghostly pale, her eyes wide with horror.

“This can’t be happening,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

Then, the same man from the video swore loudly—he was seated at the back of the venue, dressed in a suit.

A man in a suit | Source: Pexels

A man in a suit | Source: Pexels

“This is why I won’t be marrying Denise today,” Liam said, his loud voice breaking the silence, his tone even but heavy with emotion.

“I couldn’t let us all be here, witnessing what was supposed to be love, without the truth being known.”

The ceremony was ground to a halt, and the festive atmosphere evaporated into a thick, awkward tension.

Denise staggered slightly, looking around as if seeking an escape or an ally. She kicked off her shoes and picked them up.

A bride holding her shoes | Source: Pexels

A bride holding her shoes | Source: Pexels

“It’s not what it looks like,” she said. “Liam, please, not here. Let’s talk about it outside.”

I wanted to be able to look at Denise and feel sorry for her—we had been so close for so many years. But the evidence had been in the video. As close as we were, she was just another cheater.

A woman who had hurt my brother.

She pleaded with Liam again, louder this time. Tears fell down her face.

But the damage was done. My brother’s gaze never wavered from the woman he was supposed to marry.

A crying bride | Source: Pexels

A crying bride | Source: Pexels

“How long?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Not long,” she managed to say, her composure breaking. “I’m so sorry, you were never supposed to know about it.”

“In our own home, though? Seriously, Denise?” my brother retorted sharply, his hurt palpable to all watching.

“You brought him into our home,” he said.

The crowd murmured, some guests shaking their heads, others unable to look away from the unfolding drama.

A couple lying in bed | Source: Pexels

A couple lying in bed | Source: Pexels

The priest stepped back. I wondered if he was thinking about taking Liam and Denise in for couples’ counseling—something that they had refused when they booked the priest in the first place.

Liam walked out first, abandoning his wedding and all the guests he and Denise had chosen.

Denise ran out behind him, calling out to Liam, but he refused to acknowledge her presence. Her mother ran out behind her.

A bride running | Source: Unsplash

A bride running | Source: Unsplash

Later, I walked around the hotel to find my brother. I found him sitting at the bar, drinking his feelings away while eating a bowl of olives.

“Did you know?” he asked me.

“No, of course not,” I said quickly.

It turned out that when Liam was going through the videos and photos on his laptop, he ended up looking through Denise’s, too.

A hotel bar | Source: Pexels

A hotel bar | Source: Pexels

“I just wanted to see if there was anything else that I could add to the video,” he said sadly.

I ordered myself a drink and got comfortable next to my brother—from the looks of it, we were going to be there for a long time.

“I went through the first folder,” he admitted. “And it was incredible because she had all these photos that I hadn’t seen before. But in the next folder, there was the video of Denise with that man. It wasn’t even a locked folder, Daphne,” he said.

A cocktail on a tray | Source: Unsplash

A cocktail on a tray | Source: Unsplash

We were both silent for a while, and Liam gulped away his drink.

“Do you think I was wrong to expose her?” he asked.

“No,” I said honestly. “But maybe you should have spoken to her privately. There’s no knowing how this could wreck her. Or what she’ll do next.”

I sat back in my seat and helped myself to the bowl of pretzels that the bartender had left out for us.

“I have no intention of checking on her,” Liam said. “I don’t care.”

A bowl of pretzel sticks and nuts | Source: Unsplash

A bowl of pretzel sticks and nuts | Source: Unsplash

I didn’t have any intention of getting Liam to forgive Denise. There was no point in trying to get him to forgive her after what she had done—Liam had always been sure of one thing. Cheating was the absolute deal breaker in a relationship.

“Come,” he said. “Let’s go eat some wedding cake. That can’t go to waste, too.”

I followed my brother out to the dining room that had been set up for the wedding reception.

I knew that as much as I wanted to check on Denise—Liam needed me in his corner.

A white wedding cake with fruit | Source: Unsplash

A white wedding cake with fruit | Source: Unsplash

What would you have done?

My Future Brother-in-Law Was Always a Pain, but He Went Too Far at Our Wedding and That Was the Last Straw for My Fiancé and Me — Story of the Day

My future brother-in-law was always a problem—rude, arrogant, and always pushing boundaries. But on my wedding day, he crossed a line we could never forgive. He humiliated me in front of everyone, turning my perfect day into a nightmare. That was the last straw, and my fiancé finally had enough.

When Michael and I first started dating, everything felt like a fairy tale. Not the perfect kind, but the kind with unexpected twists.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Yes, I cried on our first date because I was late. I rushed into the restaurant, breathless and embarrassed.

My eyes welled up as I tried to explain—traffic, spilled coffee, a broken shoe. Michael sat there, silent, clearly unsure of what to do.

We made it through dinner, but he didn’t call me for a week. I assumed I had scared him off.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Then we ran into each other at a mutual friend’s party. I explained myself, saying I was just an emotional person. To my surprise, he understood and admitted he was the same.

That party was six years ago, and we had been inseparable ever since. I was no longer crying alone over movies where animals died—Michael cried with me. He was my soulmate, and I knew he felt the same.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Our relationship moved quickly. After just three months, we moved in together, and that’s how we lived for six years.

But somehow, we never got around to planning a wedding. There was always something—either I had a crisis, or Michael did—so we kept postponing it.

Then, eight months ago, Michael proposed. He planned everything so well that I didn’t suspect a thing, making the moment even more special. Not that I needed a proposal to know I wanted to spend my life with him.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But, like with any couple, there was one problem. His family. More specifically—his brother, Jordan.

Jordan was awful. Rude, arrogant, and full of himself. He thought he was better than everyone, including Michael.

He was only three years older but never missed a chance to remind Michael that he was the older brother.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I still remember our first meeting. Michael took me to meet his parents, and since Jordan still lived with them—yes, even as an adult—he was there too. So much for being as “amazing” as he thought he was.

At first, everything seemed fine. We had a polite conversation. But when I stepped away to use the bathroom, Jordan was waiting by the door.

“Bored yet?” Jordan asked, his voice low and smug.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I stiffened. “No, I’m fine,” I replied, keeping my tone polite but firm.

He chuckled. “Come on, let’s go have some fun,” he suggested, stepping closer.

I took a small step back. “No, really, I’m good,” I said cautiously. A strange feeling crept up my spine.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Jordan tilted his head. “Oh, come on. My brother doesn’t deserve someone like you.

You’d have a much better time with me,” he said. His voice was smooth, but his eyes held something cold.

Before I could react, he grabbed me by the waist. His hand slid lower, pressing against my backside.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Get off me!” I shouted, shoving him away. My heart pounded as I rushed back to the dining room, my breath shaky.

Michael looked up as I approached. I placed a hand on my stomach, forcing a weak smile. “I don’t feel great. Can we leave?”

Michael stood immediately. “Of course.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His parents looked concerned. “It was so nice to meet you, Danica,” they said as we hugged goodbye.

Once we were in the car, Michael glanced at me. “Are you okay? Did you eat something bad?”

I took a deep breath. “Jordan hit on me,” I said.

Michael’s hands tightened on the wheel. “What? That jerk!” His jaw clenched. “I’m going to talk to him.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Michael did talk to Jordan, but Jordan laughed it off. He claimed he was just “testing me” as Michael’s older brother, as if that excused his behavior. I didn’t believe him for a second, but Michael didn’t push back.

Sometimes, I wondered if he was afraid of Jordan. Growing up, Jordan had bullied and teased him constantly.

He always found ways to make Michael feel small, like he was less than him. Their relationship had never been close, but Michael still tried to keep the peace.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But when Jordan wouldn’t stop, even Michael had to admit it wasn’t a joke anymore.

Then the messages started. Inappropriate texts. Unwanted pictures. Disgusting words. I blocked his number.

When I told Michael I didn’t want Jordan at our wedding, he agreed right away.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

One evening, Michael came home looking drained. He sighed and dropped onto the couch beside me, his shoulders heavy with tension.

“What happened?” I asked, noticing the way his shoulders slumped.

He rubbed his face and let out a long breath. “I talked to my parents. They said if Jordan isn’t invited to the wedding, they won’t come either.” His voice was quiet, heavy with frustration.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I felt a sharp sting in my chest. “That’s not fair!” I said, my hands tightening into fists.

“I know,” Michael murmured, staring at the floor.

“The way he treats me is reason enough for me not to want him there. He harassed me, sent disgusting messages. Why does that not matter to them?” My voice wavered.

Michael didn’t answer. He just sat there, looking lost.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I exhaled, the weight of the situation pressing down on me. “Fine. We’ll invite Jordan,” I said, my voice tight.

Michael lifted his head. “Are you sure?”

“Not that we have much of a choice. But your parents need to make sure I don’t have to see him,” I said firmly.

Michael wrapped his arms around me. “You’re the best,” he whispered.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The wedding day finally arrived. My heart was so full I thought it might burst.

I had dreamed about this moment for years, and now it was finally here. I was marrying the man I loved more than anything, and nothing could ruin my day. Not stress, not nerves, not even Jordan.

Or so I thought.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I was in the bridal room at the church, standing in front of the mirror as my bridesmaids helped me with the final touches.

The dress was perfect. Everything was perfect. Then, there was a knock at the door.

Smiling, I turned to open it. My breath caught when I saw Jordan standing there.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“What are you—” Before I could finish, he lifted a bucket and, in one swift motion, dumped its contents over me. Cold, sticky liquid drenched my dress, my skin, my hair.

“This is for rejecting me, witch,” he sneered.

I gasped. The smell of paint hit me first. Bright green dripped from my arms. My beautiful white gown was ruined.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Are you insane?!” I screamed, my voice shaking.

Jordan only laughed, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, then slammed the door in my face.

My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the chair, sobbing. My bridesmaids rushed in, their faces horrified.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Oh my God,” one of them whispered.

“We need water,” another said, grabbing a towel.

They scrubbed at my dress, but the paint had already soaked in. There was no saving it.

Stacy grabbed my shoulders. “Stay here. I’ll find a white dress—anything.” She ran out before I could answer.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

I wiped my face, but more tears came. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

I couldn’t stop crying. I had spent months picking out my wedding dress, searching for the perfect one, imagining how I would look walking down the aisle.

Now, I’d have to wear something I had never even seen before. My hair was completely green, streaks of paint clinging to the strands. My bridesmaids worked quickly, pinning it up and covering it with my veil.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“It’ll be okay,” one of them whispered.

“We’ll wash it after the ceremony,” another promised.

The ceremony was already supposed to have started, but Stacy was still missing.

The minutes dragged on, each one heavier than the last. My bridesmaids paced, checking the time, whispering in worried tones.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Finally, the door burst open. Stacy came running into the room, breathless, her face flushed. In her hands, she held a surprisingly beautiful dress.

“Jordan told everyone you ran away. Michael is freaking out,” she blurted.

I froze. My stomach twisted.

“HE DID WHAT?!” I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Stacy nodded. “People are whispering. Michael looks like he’s about to pass out.”

I clenched my fists. My chest burned with anger. “That’s it. I’ve had enough.”

I reached up, ripped off my veil, and let my green-streaked hair fall loose. Gasps filled the room. My bridesmaids stared, wide-eyed.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Without another word, I stormed out. My dress stuck to my skin, the paint dry in some places, still dripping in others.

As I stepped into the church, heads turned. People whispered. My heart pounded, but I pushed forward.

Michael stood at the altar, his hands clenched, his face pale. He looked devastated.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I didn’t run away!” I shouted. My voice cut through the murmurs.

Michael’s head snapped up. “Danica?” He rushed down the aisle and pulled me into his arms.

Tears stung my eyes, but I forced them back. “Jordan poured green paint on me,” I said, stepping back and gesturing to my ruined dress. “Then he lied and told everyone I left!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Michael’s jaw tightened. He turned, scanning the room. “Jordan! Care to explain?!” His voice was sharp.

Jordan leaned back in his chair, smirking. “It was just a harmless joke,” he said, shrugging.

“That’s not a joke! No one is laughing! We’re all on edge as it is!” Michael snapped.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Whoa, little brother, calm down,” Jordan said, his tone mocking.

Michael squared his shoulders. “I’m not five anymore. You don’t have control over me.”

Jordan chuckled. “Yet here I am, at your wedding.”

“Get out!” I shouted, my voice shaking with rage.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Jordan raised an eyebrow. “I was invited. I’m not leaving.”

Michael took a step forward. “Get out!” he repeated, his voice firm. “Or I’ll throw you out myself.”

“Michael, he’s your brother,” his mother interjected, standing abruptly.

Michael turned to her. “If you support what he did, you can leave too,” he said without hesitation.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His mother’s face paled. “But Michael—” she started.

“Out!” Michael commanded. His voice was final.

A tense silence filled the church. His parents exchanged a glance, then grabbed Jordan and walked out without another word.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Michael turned back to me, his eyes softening. He pulled me close, resting his forehead against mine. “I was so scared,” he whispered.

I exhaled, feeling the weight of everything lift. “Thank you for standing up for me,” I said, my voice steady.

“From now on, always,” he promised.

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.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: I thought marriage would bring us closer, but instead, we drifted apart. Silence filled our mornings, distance grew between us. Then, one day, a forgotten phone and a single message shattered my world: “Hi, Daddy.” A name I didn’t recognize. A word that changed everything. I had to know the truth—no matter the cost.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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