A young woman is at the altar about to marry a man she doesn’t love when she sees her dead fiancé among the guests.
Sarah looked in the mirror and tucked her favorite gold chain out of sight. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, but she felt like crying.
“Now, don’t you cry!” the makeup artist said quickly, putting powder under Sarah’s eyes. “You’ll ruin my work!”
Across the room, Sarah’s mother smiled weakly. “Tears of joy,” she said, but she knew they were tears of sadness.
What should have been Sarah’s dream wedding had turned into a nightmare. Sarah adjusted her wedding dress and felt the weight of her engagement ring against her chest. It was a delicate ring with a tiny diamond, very different from the large ring now on her left hand.
“This is your choice,” Sarah told herself softly. “Now that David is gone, it doesn’t really matter who you marry.” The man she was marrying was nice, but he was chosen by her father.
Frank Melville was the son of Sarah’s father’s business partner. Their marriage would strengthen a business deal that had made both men very rich.
Sarah’s true love, David O’Reilly, had died three years ago in a terrible car accident. David was her driver when Sarah was a young celebrity, always chased by paparazzi.
It should have been the happiest day of Sarah’s life, but all she could think about was David.
Sarah remembered how she sometimes caught David watching her in the car’s mirror. She would look away. Then one night, she drank too much at a club, or maybe someone slipped her something.
Feeling sick and helpless, she called David. He came right away and helped her out of the club when she couldn’t stand.
To her embarrassment, she vomited, and David held her hair back and rubbed her back, saying comforting words. He helped her clean up and took care of her.
From that moment on, Sarah started watching David. Eventually, she convinced him to go on a date with her. They fell in love, and one day David gave her a delicate ring with a tiny diamond.
Sarah had been living the wild life of a party girl until she met David.
She happily said yes, thinking her parents would also be happy about her marrying a driver who had no money.
“But Daddy,” Sarah cried, “you always said what mattered was that I was happy!”
“You can be just as happy with a rich man,” her father replied. “Forget O’Reilly; he’s a loser.” But Sarah loved David and fought for their love. She believed her parents would eventually accept him.
That happy day never came. Instead, Sarah got a phone call while she was with her family. She saw her father go pale.
“Sarah, be brave, my love,” he said gently. “It’s David; there was an accident, a terrible accident…”
Sarah screamed and her father held her tightly while her mother sat nearby, twisting her hands and biting her lips.
That was the last day of her old life, the life where she believed in lasting love and happy endings. Two months later, Sarah told her parents she was pregnant.
They wanted her to end the pregnancy, but she refused. “This is all I have of David, and I’m having this baby!”
They had to give in to her strong will, especially with her grandmother on her side. Gran had real power in the family. Sarah’s father reluctantly accepted the pregnancy, and they spread the rumor that the father was a billionaire.
Sarah’s little girl was born, and for once, the family didn’t make a big deal out of it. Little Rachel’s existence was a secret. Soon after Rachel was born, Sarah’s father began pushing her toward Frank Melville.
Sarah sighed and lowered her delicate lace veil. “I’m ready,” she said. She picked up her bouquet and allowed her mother and bridesmaids to lead her downstairs to the waiting limousine.
A man in a wheelchair arrived at the church first. He wore a dark suit and had a bunch of wildflowers in his lap. When the usher asked him who he was with, he said, “The bride.”
He hadn’t seen Sarah in almost two years, but he turned on the TV yesterday and saw her. “Socialite Sarah Farmin, who has been away from the city’s social scene, is about to get married!”
“Not if I can help it!” David cried, turning off the TV. He remembered waking up in a hospital two years ago with his legs useless.
His mother, who had breathing problems, had been crying at his bedside. Then Sarah’s father, the powerful Greg Farmin, walked in. “You’re crippled,” he said bluntly. “What kind of life is that for Sarah? You know she’ll marry you, but you’ll be half a man.”
“What do you want?” David asked.
“I want you to stay away from Sarah. Let her believe you are dead so she can live a happy life,” Farmin said. “In return, you and your mother will get the best care money can buy.”
So David agreed, and Farmin kept his promise. David slowly got better, but his mother eventually died.
“I can’t let her do this,” David thought. “I have to tell her I’m alive.” So, when Sarah walked down the aisle with her father, David waited for his moment.
When Sarah reached Frank and the best man, her father gently lifted her veil and kissed her forehead. Just as he was about to give her away, a voice interrupted.
“Sarah,” it said. “Please don’t do this.”
Sarah turned and saw David in his wheelchair, wildflowers in his lap.
“David?” she whispered, shocked. “Oh my God, David? I must be dreaming…” Was he a ghost or a hallucination?
“It’s me,” David said, wheeling toward her. “I’m alive, but I thought you’d be better off without me.”
“Without you?” Sarah gasped. “I’ve been DEAD without you! The only thing that kept me alive was our baby, our little Rachel.”
“Baby?” David asked, shocked. “You had a baby?” He turned to Greg Farmin. “You never told me about the baby!”
“Daddy!” Sarah cried. “You knew David was alive and didn’t tell me?”
“I wanted to protect you,” Greg said defensively. He turned to David. “You gave me your word and took my money.”
“You paid him to stay away?” Sarah yelled. “You broke my heart!” Turning to Frank, she said with a sad smile, “I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you. I’m going to marry the father of my child.”
Sarah walked back toward David and hugged him. “You marry that man, and you’ll end up with nothing,” Greg shouted. “You won’t get a cent!”
Sarah’s grandmother stood up, looking at her son coldly. “Shut up, Greg. It’s not your money to give away. It’s mine, and I think Sarah and David deserve it all!”
Sarah and David got married and lived with little Rachel in a small house they bought with their own money, even though Gran wanted to buy them a luxury apartment. They knew they didn’t need luxury now that they had each other.
My Neighbor Totally Ruined My Windows with Paint after I Refused to Pay $2,000 for Her Dog’s Treatment
An increasingly heated argument starts when Julia declines to pay her neighbor $2000 for a small dog accident. Julia is dealing with family issues and navigating the chaos as tensions grow. But Julia loses it and plans some heinous retaliation after her neighbor paints over her windows.
Allow me to share with you the story of the moment I nearly went insane while residing in a quiet suburban neighborhood.
I’m Julia, and I shared this sweet small home with my husband Roger and our ten-year-old son Dean for more than 10 years.
As long as you disregarded the ongoing concern for Roger’s well-being, everything was fairly wonderful. However, when Linda moved in next door, everything was different.
Linda. The mere thought of her makes my blood boil. We never got along from the day she came in with her golden retriever, Max.
At first, it was simply small things, like her loud music or the fact that she allowed Max go anywhere he wished, nothing serious. However, things took a bad turn one sunny afternoon.
Max came running over to me while I was cutting my roses in my backyard, wagging his tail like he owned the place. Really sweet dog, but intrigued. He took in certain scents, and before I knew it, he yelled.
The poor creature has a little thorn embedded in his paw. I bent down, comforted him, and carefully pulled the thorn out. I patted Max’s head after he licked my fingers.
I accompanied him back to Linda’s, perhaps anticipating a thank you. Rather, she merely stood there, frowning and with her arms crossed.
Why does my dog have a limp? How did you act? She lost her temper.
“He simply trod on a small thorn,” I retorted, attempting to remain composed. “I removed it, and he seems OK.”
She gave a huff, and I assumed that was it. How incorrect I was!
One morning, I discovered a message affixed to my door. “You owe me $2000 for Max’s treatment,” it said.
I was astounded as I stared at it. Two thousand dollars? For what purpose? The dog only received a small cut. I made the decision to visit and make everything clear.
Linda, what’s the deal? I asked, pointing to the message.
Her tone was cold as she continued, “That’s for Max’s vet bill.” “That thorn caused him pain all through the night.”
“I apologize, but that is absurd,” I answered. “As a gesture of goodwill, I’ll give you $100, but two thousand is out of the question.”
Linda squinted her eyes. “You’ll regret it or you pay up.”
Linda turned my life into a living misery the moment she met me.
Every time she drove by, she would flip me off, honk, and tip over my trash cans. Her attempt to have Dean arrested was the worst. Dean, my sweet, naive boy, was simply riding a minibike like all the other kids in the area.
I was enjoying a cup of tea on the veranda one afternoon when I heard Linda’s car horn familiarly screaming. Glaring at Dean, who was playing in the driveway, I looked up.
She said, “Get that brat off that bike before I call the cops!”
“Linda, these are only children!” Feeling my patience wane, I yelled back.
She shot back, “Your kid is a menace, and if you don’t do something about it, I will.”
I was unable to yell, weep, or take action, even though I wanted to. Since Roger was back in the hospital, I was already overburdened with trying to keep things together. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at Dean.
I kindly murmured, “Come inside, honey.” “We’ll switch up the game.”
With tears in his eyes, Dean argued, “But Mom, I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I understand, my love. Simply put, it’s complicated.
I made an effort to ignore Linda’s shenanigans and concentrate on Roger and Dean. However, it felt as though a ticking time bomb was nearby. I was always afraid of what she might do next. Finally, she pushed me over the edge.
I got the call in the afternoon of a Sunday. Roger’s condition had gotten worse, and I had to head to the hospital right away.
After gathering our belongings, I dropped Dean off at my mother’s house and hurried to the hospital.
I stayed by Roger’s side for two excruciating days, not eating or sleeping, my mind racing with worry and tiredness.
Upon my return, all I wanted was a little break, an opportunity to regain my composure.
Upon walking up my driveway, I discovered that my house had been turned into a nightmare for graffiti artists. Paint in the colors red and yellow spattered my windows, dripping in unkempt streaks.
My house appeared to have been attempted to be converted into a circus tent. And there it was, Linda’s note “Just to make your days brighter!” sitting on the doorstep!
A house covered with paint splatters | Source: Midjourney
I was shaking with fury as I stood there, my fatigue from the previous two days melting away in the fire of my fury. That was it. This was the tipping moment.
I clinched my teeth and whispered, “Dean, go inside.”
“But Mom, what took place?” His eyes wide with terror and perplexity, he questioned.
I said it again, softly this time, attempting to maintain my composure. “Just go inside, honey.”
Dean gave a nod and rushed inside, leaving me to harbor my rage on my own.
With my thoughts racing, I crumpled Linda’s paper in my hand. It had to end. Linda was going to get a war if that was her desire.
I took a drive to the hardware shop that afternoon. I strolled through the aisles, my rage melting into a detached, analytical concentration. When I saw the Japanese Beetle traps, a strategy started to take shape.
I purchased multiple packets of the beetle-attracting smell lures and traps. I put the aroma packets in the freezer as soon as I came home. The wax would be easier to work with in the cold. Anxiety mixed with excitement caused my heart to race. This needed to function.
I slipped into Linda’s yard at three in the morning while the neighborhood was silent due to the darkness.
I had the impression of a figure from one of Roger’s favorite spy films. My heart leaped at the sound of every distant leaf rustle. However, I was adamant. I hid the smell packets behind the layers of mulch in Linda’s well-kept flower beds.
By the time I was done, the first rays of morning were appearing.
I crept back inside my house, feeling my heartbeat finally begin to settle down. Despite being tired, I felt a sense of somber fulfillment as I got into bed. It was now a matter of waiting.
When I looked out my window the following afternoon, I noticed swarms of Japanese beetles descending on Linda’s garden. They were glinting in the sunlight. It was functioning.
Her lovely flower gardens were completely destroyed over the course of the following few days, the once-vibrant blossoms reduced to frayed remains.
Allow me to correct the information. Hi there, my name is Linda, and I came to this area in search of solitude.
My golden dog, Max, went into Julia’s yard by mistake and snagged a thorn in his paw, shattering that fantasy. She pulled it out as if she were doing me a favor, rather than just giving it back to him.
I asked Julia to pay Max’s vet bill the following day.
He was in discomfort and walking with a limp all night. However, she was so bold as to offer me just $100 rather than the $2000 it would have cost. I told her she would regret not paying up after our argument. Things didn’t seem to be getting out of control.
Yes, I did, a couple times knocked over her trash cans and honked as I went past, to let her know I wasn’t going to back down. However, Julia painted myself as the bad guy.
I didn’t know things had gotten out of hand until insects decimated my garden.
I was like a crazy woman, rushing around my yard. When I was picking away dead flowers on the third day, I noticed something strange hidden in the mulch. When I saw that it was a piece of plastic packaging—part of a Japanese beetle trap—my heart fell.
Someone had intentionally done this. And I knew who it was, very well.
My wrath blazing, I stormed straight to Julia’s house. I knocked on her door, presenting the proof that implicated her.
“Julia! Let yourself in!” I yelled, fury trembling in my voice.
Appearing composed as ever, she unlocked the door. “What’s going on, Linda?”
“You know what you did to my garden?” I threw the plastic fragment towards her. This was discovered in my flower bed. Yes, you did this, right?
Although Julia maintained a neutral expression, there was a hint of something—guilt, perhaps—in her eyes. “Lucina, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t tell me lies!” I let out a cry. “You destroyed my yard! Why would you act in this manner?
A wail sounded from within the home before she could respond. When I looked behind Julia, I noticed Dean, her son, seated on the floor with tears running down his face.
“Is Dad going to pass away, Mom?” With his tiny voice breaking, Dean cried.
Julia looked past me, her expression softening as she turned to greet her son. “No, sweetheart, everything will be OK. The medical professionals are exerting every effort.
I watched this scene play out while freezing in place. My rage seemed so trivial now.
Julia was more than simply my obnoxious neighbor; she was a mother taking care of her sick husband and her afraid child.
“Julia, I.” I opened my mouth, but my words stumbled. How do I put it? I hadn’t paused to think about what she might be going through since I was so overwhelmed by my rage.
With a look of fatigue on her face, Julia turned to face me. “Linda, I apologize for your garden. However, I didn’t do it. I can’t handle this anymore, let alone caring about your flowers.
My fight was gone from me. “I apologize too,” I said. “I had no idea that things were so horrible for you.”
She gave a nod, remaining silent. I recoiled, embarrassed by my own foolishness. How could it have gotten so out of control?
That being said, I kept to myself. I realized that Julia had enough on her plate and put an end to the small-time harassing. My garden recovered slowly, and although Julia and I never became friends, we were able to live in harmony together.
I still think about that period of time years later. Sometimes, in order to understand what others are going through, you have to look past your own problems. Even though Julia and I have remained estranged neighbors, we have a silent respect for one another that was developed through hardship.
Though it has been romanticized for artistic purposes, this work draws inspiration from actual individuals and events. For reasons of privacy protection and story improvement, names, characters, and details have been changed. Any likeness to real people, alive or dead, or real events is entirely accidental and not the author’s intention.
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