On the day of Mabel and Adam’s wedding, they’re stuck in a limousine as they crawl along the freeway, thanks to traffic. Instead of keeping her mother’s guests entertained, Mabel’s daughter, Amanda, takes over the wedding, stealing the limelight. Will Mabel retaliate at the wedding or just let Amanda learn her lesson another way?
Weddings are supposed to be magical, right? An entire day dedicated to the culmination of love, months of planning, and a chance to stand with your person, promising to be with them forever…
That was the dream, at least, until my daughter Amanda turned it into an absolute nightmare.
A beautiful wedding setting | Source: Midjourney
Sigh.
It started with traffic, of course. My fiancé Adam and I were stuck on the freeway in our limousine, trapped in a sea of brake lights thanks to an overturned truck miles ahead. We weren’t too worried about the traditions. We were both married before, so seeing each other before the ceremony was the least of our concerns.
“Time, please, Ben?” I called through the intercom for our driver.
A couple sitting in a limousine | Source: Midjourney
“It’s difficult to say, Mabel,” he said. “But I’m trying to gap in whenever I can! I will get you and Adam down the aisle!”
We were definitely going to be late.
“Love, call Amanda,” Adam said, his jaw tight as he tapped on the seat. “Tell her to sort out the guests, just get the band going and keep people entertained.”
A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney
I dialed my daughter, already feeling the pressure. She picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, sweetie,” I said the moment she answered. “We’re stuck in traffic. There has been an accident, so everything is at a standstill. Can you make sure everything’s running smoothly at the venue? We’ll be about 30 minutes or so. Adam said to get the band playing.”
“Of course, Mommy!” Amanda chirped, her voice syrupy sweet. “Don’t you worry about a thing other than getting here. I’ve got everything else handled. Be safe!”
A smiling woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I exhaled, letting her assurance calm my nerves. But not ten minutes later, my phone buzzed. It was my sister, Jess.
Her voice was frantic.
“Sis, you have to come here now! It’s Amanda, she…” her voice trailed off before the call cut off.
“She’s what?” I muttered, immediately redialing, but it went straight to voicemail. A heavy pit settled in my stomach, but there was nothing we could do except crawl forward in the traffic.
A woman using a phone | Source: Midjourney
“What do you think Jess meant? What do you think is going on?” I asked Adam after filling him in.
“Oh, honey,” he said. “Honestly, I’m sure Amanda picked up a mic and is trying to sing with the band.”
When we finally pulled up to the venue half an hour later, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Amanda stood on the steps, her face glowing as she held a bouquet of ivory roses. She was in a wedding dress. It was white and simple, but it was definitely a wedding dress.
A smiling young couple | Source: Midjourney
Our photographers swarmed around her, cameras clicking as she posed with a dazzling smile. And next to her stood Kyle, her boyfriend of barely a year, looking dazed and uncomfortable in a suit.
I felt my heart stop.
“What the hell is going on?” I yelled, storming up the stairs.
Amanda turned to me, her expression a mix of surprise and amusement.
An upset bride | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, Mommy!” she gushed. “I’m so sad you missed the ceremony! It was lovely!”
My jaw dropped.
“My ceremony? You had my ceremony? You stole my ceremony? Amanda, are you out of your damn mind?”
“Well,” she said, brushing imaginary dust off her dress. “I thought since you were late, we couldn’t let the time go to waste. Everything was already set up, and the officiant needed to get going. You know how much I hate delays. So… I married Kyle!”
A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney
The audacity of it left me speechless. My beautiful ceremony, the one Adam and I had dreamed of and planned for months… it was all gone. It had been hijacked by my own daughter.
“You’ll get married another day!” she chirped, as if she hadn’t just crushed my heart. “Now, Kyle and I are going to do the final walk down to the reception hall. The guests are going to throw the rice and confetti. Do you want to join?”
I shook my head.
Confetti being thrown on a couple | Source: Midjourney
Adam came up behind me, his face a mix of fury and heartbreak. He had spent so much time trying to bond and build a relationship with Amanda that I knew her behavior had broken his heart, too.
“Say the word, love,” he said. “Say the word, Mabel, and I’ll shut this down right now.”
I looked at Amanda, the girl I raised, who was now staring at me with infuriating smugness. My fists clenched. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to fight her, to take back what she had stolen.
A frowning man | Source: Midjourney
But I exhaled slowly.
“She’s still my daughter,” I muttered to Adam. “Don’t. I’ll teach her a lesson another way.”
The reception was a surreal experience. Amanda flounced through the room, acting like the star of a fairy tale, completely oblivious to the devastation she’d caused.
My family and friends came around between courses, asking what had really happened.
A crowd of people at a wedding reception | Source: Midjourney
“Mabel, we thought it was your wedding, dear,” my aunt said. “You were supposed to get your happy ending. What is this about Amanda getting married? We didn’t know that she was even seeing someone!”
“I don’t know, Aunt Joy,” I said. “I’m just as surprised as you are.”
When dessert rolled around, Amanda even had the nerve to cut into the cake we’d ordered, complete with the beautiful sugar flowers.
A beautiful wedding cake | Source: Midjourney
Jess pulled me aside at one point, her eyes blazing.
“That daughter of yours pulled my phone away while I was talking to you. And then she locked me in the bathroom during the ceremony! I couldn’t do anything else about it! Why didn’t you stop her when you got here?”
“Because,” I said, a smile curling my lips. “Revenge is best served cold.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
The real kicker came later that evening. Amanda knocked on our hotel room door, smiling as if nothing had happened.
Adam and I were sitting on the bed, eating our way through the room service dessert menu.
“So,” she said, leaning against the cupboard in the room. “Kyle and I need your tickets to Chile for the honeymoon. I mean, there’s no point in you guys using them after all.”
A couple sitting in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney
Adam froze. I swear, I saw his hand twitch toward the night light like he was ready to throw it.
But I smiled, keeping my voice calm.
“Of course, sweetie. You can have the tickets. You and Kyle deserve some fun.”
A smiling bride in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney
Amanda squealed, hugged me, stole a strawberry from one of the plates, and let herself out.
“What the hell, Mabel?” Adam asked. “Really? She’s taking our honeymoon too? We worked so hard for all of this. Our wedding, our honeymoon, all of it. And for what? For Amanda to behave like a brat?”
“I know you’re upset,” I said. “But honey, trust me. She’s going to learn a lesson. Two days from now, you’ll see.”
An upset man in a hotel room | Source: Midjourney
And just like clockwork, Amanda phoned two mornings later, her voice anything but cheerful.
“How could you do this to me, Mom?!” she screamed.
I smirked, cradling the phone to my ear.
“Amanda, darling, is something wrong?”
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Wrong?” she shouted. “You gave me tickets to the Arctic! We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, freezing, and there’s nothing to do!”
I bit back a laugh. The tickets had been for Chile, technically. But they were only a layover on the way to our real destination: an Arctic expedition. Glacier hikes, frigid waters, and polar bear sightings.
It was our dream trip. But Amanda? She hated the cold. Luxury resorts and tropical beaches were more her style.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
Classic Amanda. She had never bothered to check the full itinerary.
“You asked for the tickets, Amanda,” I said.
“But what must I do?” she whined.
“You’re a married woman now. Figure it out.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
She hung up on me, already muttering a series of curses. And I couldn’t stop grinning.
Meanwhile, Adam and I made new plans. My sister and our closest friends rallied together to throw us the most beautiful wedding celebration at Jess’s house a week later.
They handled everything, from catering to decorations, and it was even more perfect than I could have imagined.
Beautiful wedding decor | Source: Midjourney
This time, Amanda wasn’t invited. And do you know what made everything so special? The gifts.
Since Amanda had hijacked my original wedding, all the presents went to us. A brand-new espresso machine, luxury linens, and an all-expenses-paid spa weekend from Adam’s older brother.
It was like karma had gift-wrapped itself for us.
A coffee machine in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
When Amanda found out, she had another meltdown.
“Mom, you stole my wedding gifts?” she shouted over the phone. “Everything was supposed to be left at the wedding venue until we got back from our honeymoon.”
“I think you should stop talking,” I said.
A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
“Mom, you ruined everything for me!” she cried. “I can’t believe you stole my damn gifts.”
“Amanda,” I began, laughing. “Your gifts? You stole my wedding. Consider this a fair trade.”
Adam, at the espresso machine, doubled over and laughed.
As for Amanda’s new marriage to Kyle?
A man laughing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
From what I hear, it’s already on the rocks. Jess told me later that Kyle looked downright miserable during the wedding ceremony. And I had seen that for myself during the reception. He had avoided Adam and me completely.
“That boy’s in for a rough ride with her,” Jess said when she came over for tea and cake a few days later.
Amanda might have stolen my fairy-tale wedding, but her happily-ever-after was already on thin ice.
Cake and tea on a table | Source: Midjourney
As for Adam and me? We’re better than ever. We did go on our Arctic honeymoon, and it was breathtaking.
Some lessons, I guess, are best learned the hard way. Amanda might never admit it, but I like to think she’s realized that entitlement comes at a cost.
And if not? Well, let’s just say I’ll always have the satisfaction of knowing she outsmarted herself.
Karma, after all, has a way of evening the score.
A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another for you:
My Cousin Intentionally Sewed My Wedding Dress 2 Sizes Smaller – She Was Shocked When She Saw What I Did with It
When Jess and Michael get engaged, her cousin Sarah decided to sew her wedding dress for her as a gift. But during the final fitting, Jess discovers that the wedding dress is two sizes too small. Will Sarah fix her error, or will Jess have to take things into her own hands?
My cousin Sarah and I have always had a complicated relationship. She’s loud and bubbly, but also the type of person who craves the spotlight. And because of that, our entire family gave her the attention she wanted. It made more sense to shine the spotlight on Sarah, rather than ourselves.
When Michael and I got engaged after being together for four years, my whole family seemed genuinely excited for me.
A couple standing together | Source: Midjourney
Sarah even got all of our girl cousins together, along with my best friends, for a night out. Ending in an Airbnb where we continued the party, because I was the first of us to get engaged.
During that night out, Sarah came up to me, a glass of champagne in her hand.
“Jess! I have a great idea!” she said.
A smiling woman holding a glass of champagne | Source: Midjourney
“What?” I asked. “What do you want to do?”
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 Daughter’s MIL Called Me a Beggar and Kicked Me Out of My Granddaughter’s Birthday Party – Story of the Day
I spent the little I had just to see my granddaughter smile on her birthday. But before she even saw me, her other grandma called me a beggar and wanted to have me thrown out, like I didn’t matter at all.
Five years.
That’s how long I had been living in silence…
Silence after Linda, my wife.
Silence after Emily, our daughter.
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Every morning, I woke up more from habit than will. I opened the kitchen window, breathed in the cold air, and sat at the same table, watching the same patch of light crawl across the wall.
When it reached the shelf with the teacups, I knew morning had come.
And that I was still alone.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
It had started that winter. Linda had fallen ill. She was shivering, coughing, and barely eating.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” I told her that evening. “We’re not playing games here, honey.”
“Oh, Frank, come on,” she waved her hand from under the blanket. “We can’t afford another medical bill. I’ll drive to the pharmacy myself. It’s five minutes.”
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“Linda, please,” I begged. “Don’t go. I’ll go. Or we’ll call a taxi.”
“I’m not a child. Just give me the keys, okay?”
I stood in the hallway holding her purse, watching her pull on her coat. For a moment, I thought of stopping her. But I didn’t.
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She smiled.
“I’ll be back soon. Put the kettle on.”
I did.
But she never came back.
Her car slid off the road on black ice. A truck didn’t stop in time.
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At the funeral, I held myself together until Emily approached. I tried to explain.
“Sweetheart… it was an accident. I tried to stop her.”
She didn’t meet my eyes.
“You should’ve tried harder. If you’d just once stood your ground… And now she’s dead. Because you let her leave.”
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I wanted to speak, to explain, to shout…. But the words never left my throat. So, that was the last time we spoke.
Since then — nothing.
I called every few months. Sent little notes. Photos from the past — her first bike ride, Christmas by the fireplace.
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Sometimes I left voicemails like:
“Hi, Emily. It’s Dad. Just wanted to hear your voice.”
But the silence remained. No replies. Not even a card for Christmas.
I learned how to live cheaply. Slept in my coat in winter when the radiator barely worked. Lived on tea and dry toast.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
My pension wasn’t much, but I saved every spare penny. I stashed it in an old biscuit tin in the wardrobe, under my folded shirts.
It was my safety net. For when I got too sick to care for myself. For the time when no one would be around to help me. I never touched that money. Not for food, not even when my shoes had holes in them.
Better to freeze now than beg later.
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One morning, I stared at the latest electric bill. The numbers blurred in front of me.
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.”
On the grocery store bulletin board, I noticed a handwritten note:
“Looking for a part-time janitor at Little Pines Preschool. Morning shift.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I stood in front of it for a long time. Eventually, I pulled off the tab with the number and slipped it into my coat pocket.
I thought I was just taking a job. I had no idea I was about to find the one thing I never dared hope for.
***
I started working at the preschool the following week.
I woke up at dawn, drank strong coffee, pulled on my old brown sweater, and stepped out into the still-dark morning.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
Where there had once been silence, finally there was laughter. Tiny faces, bright jackets, and backpacks tangled with dinosaurs and mermaids.
I didn’t feel like an outsider. Quite the opposite.
“Good morning, Frank!”
The kids always shouted the moment I opened the gate.
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I became part of their morning ritual. They waved at me with mittened hands, brought me leaves and chestnuts, they insisted we “absolutely must plant.”
But one little girl stood out from the rest from the very beginning.
“Are you a real shovel master?” she asked seriously on my first day, as I raked up wet leaves near the playground slide.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Well, depends on how you look at it,” I said, scratching the back of my head. “I don’t have a diploma, but I’ve got years of experience.”
She laughed — a big, honest laugh, without fear of the new stranger.
“I’m Sophie. And I’m the boss of the Yellow Bunnies group.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I smiled.
“Very pleased to meet you, Miss Bunny. My name is Frank.”
After that, Sophie was always nearby.
If I fixed a fence, she held the nails. If I swept the yard, she wiped the benches with a cloth. She was like a small sun — endlessly curious, a little bold, not like the other kids.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Do you have a dog?”
“Were you ever a famous singer?”
“Have you ever flown to the moon?”
I answered every question as if it were the most important thing in the world. Sophie nodded seriously, as if filing that information away for later.
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One afternoon, as we sat together on a bench, she pulled a pendant out from under her sweater. Small, round, silver. Delicate engravings around the edge.
My breath caught.
“What a beautiful necklace. Who gave it to you?”
“My Mom! And she got it from my grandma.”
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She patted the pendant proudly.
“It brings good luck. Mom says, ‘Wear it when you’re sad — Grandma will be right there with you.’”
I managed a weak smile.
I knew that pendant.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I had picked it out myself for Linda in a jewelry store 30 years ago. Linda had given it to Emily on her 18th birthday.
I remembered whispering back then:
“For our little star.”
I wanted to say something. Anything. But I just nodded.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Do you have a granddaughter?” Sophie suddenly asked, looking straight into my eyes.
I swallowed hard.
“Maybe I do. Maybe I don’t. I don’t really know.”
“That’s sad,” she said thoughtfully. “How can someone not know about their own granddaughter?”
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I shrugged, staring down at the faded sand under our feet.
“Sometimes people get lost. And sometimes… others lose them.”
Suddenly, Sophie grabbed my hand.
“My birthday’s coming up soon. I’ll be five! Will you come?”
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“If you invite me,” I smiled, “I’ll definitely be there.”
“I’ll make you a special invitation myself, okay?”
“Okay.”
“There’s going to be lots of balloons! And cake! But don’t bring me a present, please. I already asked Mom for a piano, but she said it’s too much. Cake’s enough.”
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“I’ll think about it. Maybe someone will show up with music anyway.”
Sophie laughed joyfully and ran back to her group.
I stayed sitting there on the bench. I didn’t know for sure. But my heart was already shouting — that was her. That was my granddaughter.
And if I was wrong, so be it. But if I was right…
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***
The restaurant buzzed with music and laughter. Bright balloons floated against the ceiling, and a giant pink cake stood proudly on a long table surrounded by gifts.
I stood quietly near the entrance, holding a small box in my hand — a tiny piano charm on a silver chain, wrapped carefully, trembling slightly in my fingers.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
I had ironed my old white shirt until it nearly shone. My brown jacket, worn but clean, hung loose on my shoulders.
I wasn’t anyone special there. Just a man at the edge of someone else’s celebration.
Across the room, I saw Sophie. Her hair was tied up in two bouncy pigtails, her eyes lighting up when she spotted me.
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She began waving, her face beaming, but before she could get close, a hand clamped down on her shoulder.
Marianne. My daughter’s MIL. Tall, sharp-eyed, her pearl suit immaculate.
She bent low to Sophie, whispering harsh words into her ear, before steering her away, casting a glance at me. Recognition flickered across her face. Her mouth twisted into a tight smile, a hunter spotting a trapped prey.
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“Well, look who crawled out from under a rock,” she said, just loud enough for others to hear.
“How touching. Thought you’d come begging, old man?”
I stiffened. “I’m here because Sophie invited me. Not for anything else.”
Marianne’s laugh was cruel.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, of course. That’s why you disappeared for five years, right? Left poor Emily to grieve alone while you drank yourself into oblivion?”
I opened my mouth to protest, but the injustice caught in my throat. Behind Marianne, I saw Emily returning with a tray of cupcakes. She hadn’t seen us yet.
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Marianne leaned closer, her voice a hiss:
“You think you can just show up and they’ll welcome you with open arms? After everything?”
I shook my head.
“I never left. I wrote. I called. I sent letters. Every Christmas, every birthday…”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
She laughed again, low and bitter.
“And what letters? What calls? Emily never got anything from you.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Emily finally looking at us. Frowning. Approaching.
“You’re lying,” I said, louder this time.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
“Am I? Then where were all those precious letters?”
Emily was close now, close enough to hear.
“I sent you letters too!” she blurted out, her voice cracking. “I wrote… I wrote so many times… birthday cards, Christmas cards… You never answered!”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney
My heart lurched.
“I never got them. Not one.”
For a heartbeat, silence hung between us. Emily turned slowly to Marianne, horror dawning in her eyes.
“You said… You said he didn’t want anything to do with me. You told me he didn’t care.”
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Marianne’s face hardened.
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“I protected you. He’s a burden, Emily! Always was. I did what I had to do.”
“You stole my letters,” Emily said, her voice rising. “You lied to me! For years!”
A few guests were watching now, their smiles fading into uncomfortable glances.
“And you,” Emily turned on me, tears brimming. “You thought I didn’t care either.”
I nodded, throat too tight to speak.
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Suddenly, a delivery truck pulled up outside. Two men climbed out, wrestling a small upright piano onto the sidewalk.
“Delivery for Sophie!”
I looked down at my shoes.
“I don’t have much,” I said quietly. “Just my pension. But I saved for that. For her.”
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Emily covered her mouth with her hands, shaking her head.
“I thought you didn’t love me anymore.”
“I never stopped loving you. Not for a second.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
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Without warning, Emily stumbled forward and threw her arms around me, squeezing tightly, as if afraid I might vanish.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Dad.”
I held her back, my chest breaking open from years of silence and grief.
Meanwhile, Marianne stood frozen, pale and rigid, ignored by everyone around her.
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Sophie, clutching a balloon, peeked out from behind a chair.
“The storm ended?”
Emily wiped her eyes and knelt beside her.
“Sophie… This is your grandpa. The best man in the world.”
Sophie looked up at me, grinned, and said, loud and clear:
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“So… you do have a granddaughter after all, huh? Now you really know.”
For a second, the whole world seemed to hold its breath. I laughed and dropped to my knees to pull her into my arms.
We had lost so many years. But standing there, holding Sophie in my arms, I knew — the best ones were still ahead.
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