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.

We Postponed Our Wedding Because of My Fiancé’s Business Trip, but I Accidentally Saw Him in Town That Same Day

When Jennifer’s fiancé, Chris, postpones their wedding for a last-minute business trip, she’s heartbroken. But on her birthday, the day they were meant to marry, Jennifer spots him in town. Suspecting betrayal, she confronts him, only to uncover a life-altering secret that Chris has spent years keeping quiet.

Six months ago, when Chris got down on one knee in the park where we had our first date, I thought nothing in my entire life could feel more perfect.

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

A smiling couple | Source: Midjourney

We set the date for late fall, on my birthday, no less. It felt right, like everything in my life had been leading to that moment.

Chris and I were two halves of a whole, and as cheesy as that sounds, I mean it. He was the methodical planner, thriving on spreadsheets and five-year goals, while I was the impulsive dreamer, chasing creative projects and wandering wherever life led me.

Together, we found balance.

A stack of wedding invitations | Source: Midjourney

A stack of wedding invitations | Source: Midjourney

Or so I thought.

But then something happened that made me question everything.

A month before our wedding, Chris’s boss threw us a massive curveball. Chris had to attend a crucial business trip.

On the same day as our wedding!

An older man sitting at his desk | Source: Midjourney

An older man sitting at his desk | Source: Midjourney

“It’s just three days, love,” Chris said, holding my hands. “I know how disappointing it is, but at the same time… this is huge for my career, Jen. There’s a promotion on the line, and it could mean big things for us. We could move into our dream home sooner, we could extend our honeymoon for longer… I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.”

I was devastated. I mean, who wouldn’t be?

But what could I do? Reluctantly, I agreed to postpone the wedding for a few weeks. I tried to put on a brave face, telling myself that it was just a small delay along our journey.

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“Fine,” I said. “And I’ll make all the calls to the vendors and send out messages to all our guests. You focus on work and the trip, and I’ll do the rest. Okay?”

“I knew you’d get it,” he smiled.

Then my birthday arrived, the day we should have been saying ‘I do.’ Instead of getting all dressed, spending time getting my hair and makeup done to perfection, I found myself wandering aimlessly through the city.

A woman walking down a street | Source: Midjourney

A woman walking down a street | Source: Midjourney

My bridesmaids had wanted to spend the day with me, knowing that Chris would be away, but I didn’t want to see them. I didn’t want to see anyone.

“Why are you acting like the wedding is canceled, Jen?” my friend Avery asked. “It’s not. It’s just been postponed.”

“I know that,” I said. “But… I can’t help the way I feel. It’s just… never mind.”

“You can talk to me, Jen,” she said softly.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, but I don’t even know what words to use. I’m feeling deflated, I guess. That’s all. I want to be alone. But I’ll come over tomorrow, I promise.”

I cut the call and left home in my boots. The crisp autumn air bit at my cheeks as I clutched my coffee, trying to ignore the gnawing ache in my chest.

The streets blurred as I walked, my thoughts spinning. I missed Chris. I missed him terribly. And I missed what the day should have been.

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Midjourney

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Midjourney

Eventually, I ended up on the outskirts of town, where a fancy boutique hotel caught my eye. Deciding I needed a drink, something stronger than coffee, I stepped inside the warm lobby.

The soft hum of voices and clinking glasses greeted me as I made my way to the bar. The bartender had just started making my drink when something, or someone, caught my eye.

There he was.

Chris.

The exterior of a hotel | Source: Midjourney

The exterior of a hotel | Source: Midjourney

In a suit, standing at the reception desk, talking to the concierge.

My heart stopped.

I blinked, sure that I was imagining things. Chris was supposed to be 500 miles away on his business trip. So, what the hell was he doing here?

Before I could think, I slapped a note on the bar, paying for my untouched drink. I stormed toward the staircase where he had disappeared. My boots echoed against the polished wood as I raced upstairs, my pulse pounding in my ears.

A note on a bar counter | Source: Midjourney

A note on a bar counter | Source: Midjourney

“Chris!” I shouted. “What is happening? Why are you here? What are you doing here?!”

He turned, startled, his face turning pale before my eyes.

“Jen! Wait!”

“No!” I said, my voice giving my feelings away. “You lied to me, Chris! You’re supposed to be on a business trip. Are you… are you cheating on me? Is that what this is?”

A man wearing a suit | Source: Midjourney

A man wearing a suit | Source: Midjourney

His hands shot up in defense.

“No, Jen, I swear it’s not that. Just… please, come with me. I’ll explain everything.”

I followed him down the hall, my anger simmering under the surface. He stopped outside a door, pulling a keycard from his pocket.

“What’s in there? Who is in there?” I demanded.

A man holding a hotel keycard | Source: Midjourney

A man holding a hotel keycard | Source: Midjourney

“Just… trust me.”

The door swung open, revealing a simple hotel room. My stomach churned as I scanned the space, expecting to see some other woman. Instead, it was empty.

Chris gestured to the armchair by the window.

“Sit down,” he said softly.

“Explain, Chris,” I said, suddenly exhausted. “Now. Please.”

The interior of a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

The interior of a hotel room | Source: Midjourney

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Jen, I’ve been working on something for a long time. For years, actually. It’s about your mother.”

I froze.

“My mother?” I echoed. “What?”

He nodded, his voice trembling slightly.

An upset woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

An upset woman holding her head | Source: Midjourney

“I know you don’t talk about her much, but I know how much it’s hurt you, love. Not knowing why she left you at the hospital… not knowing where she went or why.”

I swallowed hard, the familiar ache of abandonment rising in my chest.

“For three years, I’ve been trying to find her,” Chris continued. “I hired private investigators, scoured records, even contacted labs to trace potential matches. And… I think I found her.”

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

My heart thudded in my chest.

“There’s a woman,” he said. “Her name is Margaret. She’s staying here at the hotel. I didn’t tell you because… well, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it wasn’t her. I didn’t even know how to bring it up. But a few weeks ago, we got confirmation that her story matches yours. She’s been looking for you, Jen. My PI told me.”

Tears filled my eyes.

“You’ve been doing all this for me? And you didn’t tell me?”

A private investigator sitting at a desk | Source: Midjourney

A private investigator sitting at a desk | Source: Midjourney

He stepped closer, his voice gentle.

“I wanted to protect you. And… I wanted it to be a surprise for your birthday. If it was her, I mean.”

I sank into the closest armchair, my legs too shaky to hold me.

Two hours later, there was a knock at the door. My stomach flipped as Chris stood to answer it.

A woman sitting in an armchair | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in an armchair | Source: Midjourney

When the door opened, a woman stepped inside.

She was tall and graceful, with streaks of gray in her dark hair. Her eyes, a piercing shade of green, locked onto mine, and I felt like the air had been punched out of my lungs.

We stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us speaking.

Finally, she broke the silence.

“Jennifer?”

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

My name on her lips sounded strange, foreign yet familiar.

I stood slowly, my hands trembling.

“You’re… my mother?”

Tears filled her eyes as she nodded.

“I think so. But… we should go to the lab for a DNA test, just to be sure.”

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

A close up of a woman | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I said, my voice firm despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “I don’t need a test. I know it’s you.”

It sounded stupid, I know. But I could see it all over her face. It was clear, if this woman wasn’t my mother, then she was still closely related to me.

She smiled softly, her tears spilling over.

“You look just like my mother,” she said. “I’ve been looking for you for so long.”

I blinked, confused.

An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“You’ve been looking for me?”

She nodded, sitting down across from me.

“It’s a long story,” she said, her voice shaky. “Forty years ago, when I gave birth to you, there was a terrible mistake at the hospital. The nurse mixed up the babies… and I… I left with someone else’s child.”

My head spun.

“What?”

A newborn baby girl | Source: Midjourney

A newborn baby girl | Source: Midjourney

She shook her head.

“I didn’t know the truth until years later, when my daughter, well, the daughter I thought was mine, died in a car accident. A DNA test revealed she wasn’t biologically related to me. I was devastated. And that’s when I started searching for my real daughter. For you.”

My throat tightened.

“But… my mother left me at the hospital. That’s what my foster mother told me.”

The exterior of a hospital | Source: Midjourney

The exterior of a hospital | Source: Midjourney

Her face crumpled.

“I know. I think the woman who was supposed to take you home ran away when she realized the mistake. I’m so sorry, darling. You were abandoned because of what happened, and it’s all my fault. I passed out after I gave birth to you, I didn’t know any better when I came to.”

Tears streamed down my face as I tried to process everything.

Chris wrapped an arm around me, his touch grounding me.

A woman in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a hospital bed | Source: Midjourney

“You’re not alone anymore,” he whispered.

Looking at the woman in front of me, my mother, I felt a strange mix of pain and hope. After years of wondering, I finally had answers. And on my birthday, of all days.

“It’s the best gift I could have asked for,” I said softly.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney

Two weeks later, we finally celebrated our wedding. My mother sat in the front row, tears shining in her eyes as Chris and I said, “I do.”

And for the first time in my life, I felt whole.

A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney

A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney

When Jake insists on cooking Thanksgiving turkey for the first time, Jen is skeptical but supportive until the result is a culinary disaster no one at the table can ignore. But the real shock comes when she discovers the recipe isn’t Jake’s. As tensions simmer and doubts creep in, she’s forced to confront the cracks in their marriage. This Thanksgiving, the turkey isn’t the only thing leaving a bad aftertaste.

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.

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