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

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.”

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.

“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.

“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.

“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!”

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.”

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.

“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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.

“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.

“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.

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.

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.

“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.

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.”

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.

What would you have done?

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I Caught My Husband with His Mistress in a Hotel — This Is a Romantic Trip They Will Never Forget

Ever since Tom first described the seaside charm of Bellport, I’d pictured us having a romantic week away there, walking hand in hand, retracing his cherished memories of the time he lived there.

Since we had gotten married, my husband had painted such vivid pictures of Bellport that it seemed woven into our marriage vows.

“It’s the most beautiful place, Eliza,” he would say, sipping his tea while paging through a newspaper.

Year after year, he promised that we would go, but life always seemed to get in the way—work obligations, family matters, and an endless parade of excuses.

“I’m sorry, Darling,” he would say. “It’s just that something came up at the office, and I have to attend to it.”

But then, when Tom forgot our 10th wedding anniversary, something inside me snapped.

“I have to leave town for the week,” he said while shaving. “It’s for work. We’re prospecting new clients.”

I had hoped that Tom would have told me to pack my bags and get ready to celebrate our romantic milestone—yet, it slipped his mind entirely.

Enough was enough.

I wasn’t about to be a footnote in my own love story.

So, I called my best friend, Jenny.

“We’re going away for my wedding anniversary!” I said as she answered the call.

“What?” she asked, surprised by my words, I could hear her slurping on her usual smoothie.

“Tom would hate that!”

I explained to her that Tom had to be on a business trip and that I was tired of being alone.

“Pack your bags, Jen,” I told her.

I went straight to my closet and began to pack my bags. I needed this. I needed a moment to myself. I got onto my laptop and booked a hotel. This weekend was going to be a weekend to heal, laugh, and forget the sting of neglect.

The hotel Tom had often raved about was our first stop.

As we stepped into the lobby—a place he described right down to the gilded frames on the walls—my heart raced with anticipation and a twinge of sadness.

I was happy to be here with my best friend, sure. But being with Tom would have made it so much better, with memories that would have lasted a lifetime.

“Let’s check-in and leave our bags,” Jenny said. “And then get some fish and chips from that place you’ve been talking about for the past hour.”

And then I heard it.

Tom’s laugh.

I looked up, across the room, and there he was. My husband, standing across the lobby with his arm wrapped around a woman who was decidedly not me.

The scene was like a punch to the gut. There he was, living our dream with someone else.

Want to know what happens next? Read the full story here.

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.