I Married My Father’s Friend – I Was Stunned When I Saw What He Started Doing on Our Wedding Night

I Married My Father’s Friend – I Was Stunned When I Saw What He Started Doing on Our Wedding Night

Amber had given up on love but sparks fly when she meets her father’s old friend, Steve, at a BBQ. As their whirlwind romance leads to marriage, everything seems perfect. But on their wedding night, Amber discovers Steve has an unsettling secret that changes everything.

I pulled up to my parents’ house and stared at the line of cars parked across the lawn.

“What’s this all about?” I muttered, already bracing myself for whatever family surprise was waiting inside.

A woman in her car | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her car | Source: Midjourney

I grabbed my purse, locked the car, and headed toward the house, hoping it was nothing too chaotic.

As soon as I opened the door, the smell of grilled meat hit me, along with the sound of my dad’s booming laugh. I walked into the living room and peeked out the back window.

Of course, Dad was hosting some kind of impromptu BBQ. The whole backyard was filled with people, most of them from his auto repair shop.

People at a BBQ | Source: Pexels

People at a BBQ | Source: Pexels

“Amber!” Dad’s voice cut through my thoughts as he flipped a burger with that same apron he’s had for years. “C’mon, grab a drink and join us. It’s just the guys from work.”

I tried not to groan. “Looks like the whole town’s here,” I mumbled, slipping off my shoes.

Before I could join in the familiar, chaotic atmosphere, the doorbell rang. Dad tossed the spatula down and wiped his hands on his apron.

A man walking into a house | Source: Midjourney

A man walking into a house | Source: Midjourney

“That must be Steve,” he said, almost to himself. He glanced at me as he reached for the doorknob. “You haven’t met him yet, right?”

Before I could even answer, Dad had already flung the door open.

“Steve!” he boomed, giving the guy a solid clap on the back. “Come on in, you’re just in time. Oh, and meet my daughter, Amber.”

I looked up, and my heart skipped a beat.

A man standing on a doorstep | Source: Midjourney

A man standing on a doorstep | Source: Midjourney

Steve was tall and a little rough around the edges in a ruggedly handsome way, with graying hair and eyes that somehow managed to be both warm and deep. He smiled at me, and I felt this strange flutter in my chest that I wasn’t prepared for.

“Nice to meet you, Amber,” he said, offering his hand.

His voice was calm and steady. I shook his hand, a little self-conscious about how I must look after driving for hours.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

A woman | Source: Midjourney

A woman | Source: Midjourney

From that point on, I couldn’t stop glancing at him. He was the kind of man who made everyone around him comfortable, always listening more than talking. I tried to focus on the conversations around me, but every time our eyes met, I felt this pull.

It was ridiculous. I hadn’t even been thinking about love or relationships for ages. Not after everything I’d been through.

I’d pretty much given up on finding “the one” and was more focused on work and family. But something about Steve made me want to reconsider, even though I wasn’t ready to admit it.

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful woman | Source: Midjourney

As the day wound down, I finally said my goodbyes and headed to my car. Of course, when I tried to start it, the engine sputtered and died.

“Great,” I groaned, slumping back in my seat. I considered going back inside to ask Dad for help, but before I could, there was a knock on my window.

It was Steve.

“Car trouble?” he asked, smiling as if this kind of thing happened every day.

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

I sighed. “Yeah, it’s not starting. I was just going to get my dad, but…”

“Don’t worry about it. Let me take a look,” he offered, already rolling up his sleeves.

I watched him work, his hands moving with practiced ease. Within a few minutes, my car roared back to life. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath until I exhaled.

A car engine | Source: Pexels

A car engine | Source: Pexels

“There you go,” he said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Should be good now.”

I smiled, genuinely grateful. “Thanks, Steve. I guess I owe you one.”

He shrugged and gave me a look that made my stomach flip. “How about dinner? We can call it even.”

I froze for a second. Dinner? Was he asking me out?

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

A smiling man | Source: Midjourney

I felt that familiar flicker of doubt, the little voice in the back of my head reminding me of all the reasons I shouldn’t say yes. But something in Steve’s eyes made me want to take the chance.

“Yeah, dinner sounds good.”

And just like that, I agreed. I never would’ve imagined then that Steve was exactly the man I needed to heal my wounded heart… or how deeply he’d hurt me, either.

A woman | Source: Midjourney

A woman | Source: Midjourney

Six months later, I stood in front of the mirror in my childhood bedroom, staring at myself in a wedding dress. It was surreal, honestly. After everything I’d been through, I didn’t think this day would ever come.

I was 39 years old, and I’d given up on the whole fairy tale, but here I was — about to marry Steve.

The wedding was small, just close family and a few friends, exactly what we wanted.

A wedding venue | Source: Pexels

A wedding venue | Source: Pexels

I remember standing at the altar, looking into Steve’s eyes, and feeling this overwhelming sense of calm. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t second-guessing anything.

“I do,” I whispered, barely able to keep the tears from spilling over.

“I do,” Steve said back, his voice thick with emotion.

And just like that, we were husband and wife.

A newlywed couple | Source: Pexels

A newlywed couple | Source: Pexels

That night, after all the congratulations and hugs, we finally got some alone time. Steve’s house, our house now, was quiet, the rooms still unfamiliar to me. I slipped into the bathroom to change into something more comfortable, my heart full and light.

But the minute I slipped back into the bedroom, I was greeted by a shocking sight.

Steve was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me, talking softly to someone… a someone who wasn’t there!

A man speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

A man speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney

My heart skipped a beat.

“I wanted you to see this, Stace. Today was perfect… I just wish you could’ve been here.” His voice was soft, full of emotion.

I stood frozen in the doorway, trying to make sense of what I was hearing.

“Steve?” My voice sounded small, unsure.

He turned around slowly, guilt flickering across his face.

A startled man | Source: Midjourney

A startled man | Source: Midjourney

“Amber, I—”

I stepped closer, the air between us thick with unspoken words. “Who… who were you talking to?”

He took a deep breath, his shoulders slumping. “I was talking to Stacy. My daughter.”

I stared at him, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. He’d told me he’d had a daughter. I knew she had died. But I didn’t know about… this.

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

A concerned woman | Source: Midjourney

“She died in a car accident, with her mom,” he continued, his voice strained. “But sometimes I talk to her. I know it sounds crazy, but I just… I feel like she’s still here with me. Especially today. I wanted her to know about you. I wanted her to see how happy I am.”

I didn’t know what to say. My chest felt tight and I couldn’t quite catch my breath. Steve’s grief was raw, a living thing between us, and it made everything feel heavy.

But I didn’t feel scared. I didn’t feel angry. Just… so sad. Sad for him, for everything he’d lost, and the way he’d been carrying it all alone. His grief hurt me as though it were my own.

A Wealthy Man Pretended to Be a Waiter and Invited a Woman on a Date to the Restaurant He Owns

When wealthy restaurateur Nate meets down-to-earth Beth at a gas station, her charm catches him off guard. Intrigued but wary from past heartbreak, Nate invites her on a date with a twist. Will his charade of being a waiter at a restaurant he owns reveal her true intentions?

Neon paint splatters covered my clothes, and I didn’t realize how ridiculous I looked until I pulled up to the gas station. I stepped inside, feeling sore and a little dazed from an intense paintball match, and that’s when I saw her.

The cashier.

A cashier at a gas station | Source: Midjourney

A cashier at a gas station | Source: Midjourney

Her blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun, a few wisps escaping around her face. When she noticed me and smiled, I swear my heart somersaulted.

“If the Terminator walked in right now,” she teased, “he definitely wouldn’t ask for your clothes.”

I blinked. For a second, I didn’t know whether to laugh or melt into the floor.

“I… I was just playing paintball,” I replied sheepishly. My cheeks flamed up in what I could only hope wasn’t an obvious blush.

A shy man | Source: Midjourney

A shy man | Source: Midjourney

She grinned wider, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Really? That was my first guess.” She looked me up and down, making a show of inspecting the damage the paint had done to my clothes. “Did you win, or…?”

“Uh, yeah. My team won.” I shrugged, trying to appear casual, though it was hard to feel composed under her playful gaze.

“Well, congrats, soldier. Need a victory snack?” She winked at me and nodded at the candy shelf, her tone still dripping with mock seriousness.

A woman working as a gas station cashier | Source: Midjourney

A woman working as a gas station cashier | Source: Midjourney

I couldn’t help but laugh. This woman — Beth, her name tag read — was a breath of fresh air. I don’t know what came over me, but the next thing I knew, I blurted out, “Would you like to grab dinner with me sometime?”

She blinked, the smile fading slightly as surprise flickered in her eyes. For a moment, I feared I’d misread the whole thing. But then she tilted her head and her grin returned to full force.

“Alright. Sure… just no paintball, okay?”

A grinning gas station cashier | Source: Midjourney

A grinning gas station cashier | Source: Midjourney

We exchanged numbers, and I walked out of that gas station with a date to look forward to. I was excited, but it didn’t take long for the anxiety to set in.

I’ve been burned too many times before. Women were more interested in the idea of Nate, the wealthy restaurateur than in Nate, the man who liked obscure indie bands and reading Manga. So, I devised a little test. Maybe it was crazy, but I had to know.

I invited Beth to my upscale Italian restaurant downtown. It was the crown jewel of my empire, and would now also be the stage on which I’d expose Beth’s true intentions.

The interior of an upmarket restaurant | Source: Midjourney

The interior of an upmarket restaurant | Source: Midjourney

I watched from across the room as Beth entered in a simple red dress that made her look effortlessly beautiful. The staff already knew the plan, so I hurried over to greet her, my heart pounding.

“Hey,” I said, guiding her to a corner table. “I’m so glad you came. I saved us the best table.”

Beth smiled, glancing around. “Oh? You come here so often you know which table is the best?”

A woman speaking to her male companion | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking to her male companion | Source: Midjourney

I chuckled as I sat across from her, fidgeting with the napkin. “Yeah, I work here. Just finished my shift, actually.”

Her eyes flickered with surprise, but her trademark grin quickly replaced it. “Really? I’ve always wanted to be a waitress. Maybe I’ll jump in for a shift after dinner.”

I laughed nervously, watching her reaction closely. “I don’t recommend it. The pay’s awful, and the hours? Brutal.”

As if on cue, one of my waiters approached with menus, winking subtly at me.

A man seated at a table with his date | Source: Midjourney

A man seated at a table with his date | Source: Midjourney

“Good to see you, Nate. Still recovering from that lunch rush?” he asked, playing his part perfectly.

“Yeah, barely survived,” I said with a tight smile.

Dinner arrived, and soon we were talking and laughing like old friends. She told me about her love of books, and how she used to want to write, but ended up working at the gas station to help her mom out.

She was funny and quick-witted. Her humor caught me off guard at every turn and I was thoroughly charmed by her.

A woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Being with her felt… effortless.

As dessert approached, my restaurant manager, Tom, came over, looking furious. Of course, it was all part of the act, but Beth didn’t know that.

“Nate!” Tom snapped, glaring at me. “You skipped out on the last 15 minutes of your shift. What the hell? Get back to the kitchen and wash the dishes, or you’re fired!

Beth’s eyes went wide, and I could see the shock register.

A wide-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney

A wide-eyed woman | Source: Midjourney

Beth stood, her face softening with concern. “Hey, it’s okay. If you need to go, go. We can always—”

“I’m really sorry,” I cut in, feeling the weight of the lie. “I’ll have to finish up back there. I’ll, uh, text you later?”

“Sure,” she replied with a wink.

And with that, I excused myself, heading toward the kitchen, my mind racing. I needed time to think and to plan my next move, but I had barely been back there for two minutes when the kitchen door creaked open.

A staff entrance in a restaurant kitchen | Source: Pexels

A staff entrance in a restaurant kitchen | Source: Pexels

Beth slipped in, her face glowing with a mixture of amusement and determination.

“You haven’t started yet?” she teased, rolling up her sleeves. “Come on. Let’s wash these dishes together and then go for a walk on the pier.”

I stared at her, completely floored. How did I get so lucky? A flood of emotions swept over me. It was clear now that Beth really did like me, enough to wash a mountain of dirty dishes so we could continue our date at the pier… how was I going to tell her this was all a test?

A thoughtful man | Source: Midjourney

A thoughtful man | Source: Midjourney

The dishes clinked together as we scrubbed side by side, our elbows occasionally bumping. Guilt stabbed at me each time Beth smiled at me like this was the most natural thing in the world — standing in the back of a high-end restaurant, washing dishes after a first date.

I couldn’t stop stealing glances at her, wondering how someone like her could be so unaffected by everything.

After we finished, Beth wiped her hands on her dress, completely unfazed by the water spots. She looked at me with a playful gleam in her eyes.

A smiling woman in a restaurant kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman in a restaurant kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“Well, I can’t say I expected to end up elbow-deep in suds tonight, but it wasn’t half bad. So, what now? Are we walking to the pier, or are you making me clean the kitchen, too?”

I chuckled, but the sound caught in my throat. I had to come clean with her. It was now or never.

“Beth, I have to tell you something,” I said, my voice a little too serious for the moment.

She tilted her head, her smile fading just a bit. “Okay…?”

A woman smiling uncertainly | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling uncertainly | Source: Midjourney

I took a breath, the truth ready to burst out of me. “I’m not a waiter. Well, I used to be, but not anymore. I’m actually the owner of this place. I own this restaurant and two others in the city.”

Beth blinked, her brows knitting together in confusion. “Wait… what?”

“The whole thing tonight was a setup,” I admitted, guilt creeping into my voice. “I wanted to see if you liked me for who I am, not for the money or the restaurant. I know it’s crazy, but I’ve been burned before, and didn’t want to risk it again.”

A guilty man | Source: Midjourney

A guilty man | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, Beth just stood there, her expression unreadable. My heart pounded in my chest as the silence stretched on. Then, she crossed her arms and gave me a long, searching look.

“So, let me get this straight,” she finally said, her tone carefully neutral. “You lied to me all night because you thought I might be… what? A gold digger?”

I winced. “It wasn’t like that. I just… I’ve had bad experiences. But I like you so much… I just didn’t want to mess this up.”

Her gaze softened a little, but there was still a hurt flicker in her eyes.

A woman in a kitchen with a hurt expression | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a kitchen with a hurt expression | Source: Midjourney

“So, you were testing me.”

“I know it sounds terrible, and it is,” I said quickly, stepping closer. “But I had to be sure you liked me for me.”

Beth stood quietly for a moment, processing. Then she shook her head with a small, incredulous laugh.

“So… did I pass your test?”

I nodded earnestly, feeling the weight of the night lift off my shoulders. “With flying colors.”

A serious man | Source: Midjourney

A serious man | Source: Midjourney

She smiled back, and her playfulness quickly returned. “Oh, and for the record — your restaurant’s food isn’t that great. Next time, we’re going somewhere else, somewhere we won’t end up washing dishes, okay?”

I laughed, the sound echoing through the empty kitchen. “You got it.”

Here’s another story: At a family outing, my mother-in-law switched my mild chicken for an extra-spicy option, leaving me humiliated in a crowded restaurant. As my mouth burned and Linda smirked, I decided to plan a dinner that would teach her a lesson she’d never forget!

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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