Chelsea is all set to marry Rasmus, the man of her dreams. But when the wedding day arrives and no guests show up, Chelsea has to figure out who canceled her wedding and whether her groom is right for her or not.
I’ve always wanted that ‘Happily Ever After’ kind of romantic life. So, when I met Rasmus, I thought I had finally gotten it. But as my wedding day began to unravel, it seemed I had gotten the nightmare version instead.
Rasmus and I met at a bakery. It was a sweet little meet-cute situation — where I was convinced he was the perfect person for me. We exchanged numbers over rye bread.
“I’ll be seeing you around, Chelsea,” he said, holding onto a loaf of artisanal bread.
He called me just as he left the bakery, wanting us to have dinner that night.
Two short years later, we were waking up to our wedding day.
That morning, I showered early, eagerly awaiting my hair and makeup appointments. I remember sitting at the edge of the hotel bed, looking at my dress and holding my breath.
I couldn’t wait to marry Rasmus. I couldn’t wait to begin our lives together.
So, the day went on — my maid of honor, my sister Jess, was with me, and we continued to get ready.
“Where’s Mom?” Jess asked. “Shouldn’t she be getting dressed with us?”
“No, we decided it would be best for her and Dad to meet us at the venue. You know she doesn’t get along with Rasmus.”
Jess shook her head.
“You’d think that Mom would have sorted out her feelings by now.”
It was true, my parents loved me — but they just couldn’t see Rasmus and me together.
“There’s just something off about him,” my father would say. “But we respect your wishes to marry him.”
Closer to the time, Jess called for the hotel car, and we made our way to the wedding venue.
“Where is everyone?” Jess asked, echoing my thoughts.
It was an entire wedding venue with literally not a soul in sight. There was no welcome sign for the guests, no welcome drinks, no décor, no staff, and absolutely no guests.
Not even Rasmus.
“Get Brenda on the phone,” I said, talking about my wedding planner.
I was beginning to panic. I was all dressed and ready to go. It was supposed to be my special day.
“Brenda, where is everyone?” I asked when Jess handed me the phone.
“What do you mean?” Brenda’s calm voice came through the speaker.
“I’m at my wedding venue, and there’s nobody here!” I exclaimed, the panic evident in my voice.
“Chelsea, honey,” Brenda said. “The wedding was canceled. The directive came through your email address just three days ago.”
My heart almost stopped beating.
How could I have canceled my own wedding? I went through my emails, and sure enough, there it was.
Dear Brenda,
Due to unforeseen circumstances, the wedding is off. Please notify all the guests and the vendors.
But it made no sense. It was from my corporate account — an account that my family had access to because we all worked at the family business together.
My mind raced — did Mom and Dad? Could they really…? No, they couldn’t have.
They always said that it was my life and my choices. Even if they didn’t approve of Rasmus, they wouldn’t hurt me like this.
I needed to hear it from them.
But my parents were just as shocked as I was.
“We were on a flight, honey,” my father said. “I had a business meeting, and your mother tagged along with me. We had nothing to do with it. We did get the cancellation from Brenda and just wanted to give you your space.”
“I didn’t see any email,” Jess said. “But you know how bad I am at checking my mail.”
That’s when it hit me — the only other person who would have access to my email accounts, work and personal, was Rasmus.
The same man who was supposed to be waiting for me at the other end of the aisle.
I asked Jess to take me home, ready for answers. I needed to know what was happening and how it all unfolded without my knowledge.
I walked into our little apartment, and there he was. Rasmus, sitting on the couch eating a bowl of cereal. He had no intention of leaving the house because he was in his sweatpants, wearing glasses, and his hair was wavy.
His usual armor of being well-dressed, contacts in, and hair swept into his signature hairstyle was all missing.
“You canceled our wedding?” I asked before he could say anything.
Rasmus didn’t even try to hide it. He had canceled the wedding because, three days ago, he realized that as much as he loved me, he wasn’t ready for marriage.
So, he panicked.
“I didn’t have the courage to tell you,” he said. “I figured that you’d think the wedding was on, and then when the slip-up happened, you would want to investigate it. I thought it would take the heat off me.”
As I stood there, my wedding day in ruins around me, I realized that my parents were right. Rasmus wasn’t the person for me. And as much as it hurt, a part of me was relieved he did it.
So, here I am, looking at my wedding dress and wondering what to do with it.
What would you have done?
The Previous Owner of My House Left a Cautionary Note About Our Neighbors – I Didn’t Believe It Until One Day
When we moved into our new house, we thought we’d found the perfect neighbors in the Johnsons. But after returning from vacation to find our property trashed, I discovered a hidden note that would change everything and force us to question who we could really trust.
We moved into our new house a year ago, and everything seemed perfect. The neighborhood was quiet, the house was beautiful, and we were excited to settle in. Our neighbors, the Johnsons, seemed cool too. They welcomed us with a pie and friendly smiles.
“Welcome to the neighborhood!” Jane beamed, holding out a steaming apple pie. Her husband, Tom, stood behind her, grinning and waving.
“Thanks so much,” I said, taking the pie. “I’m Emma, and this is my husband Mike.”
Mike stepped forward, shaking their hands. “Great to meet you both. We’re really looking forward to living here.”
We chatted for a while, and they seemed nice enough. Their house was somewhat run-down, but that didn’t bother us. Over the next few months, we got to know them better. We had barbecues, swam in our pool, and generally got along well.
But three months later, I found a note from the previous owner tucked inside a kitchen drawer. It read: “Beware of the Johnsons. They’ll make your life hell. Don’t put them too close.”
I showed it to Mike that evening. “What do you think about this?” I asked, handing him the note.
He read it and frowned. “Seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think? They’ve been nothing but nice to us.”
I nodded, but something nagged at me. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s probably nothing.”
“Maybe the previous owner had a personal beef with them,” Mike suggested. “People can be petty sometimes.”
We decided to ignore it. After all, we’d been getting along great with Jane and Tom. Every weekend, we invited them over for pool parties and barbecues. We exchanged recipes, borrowed books, and even asked for their advice about garden design.
“Your tomatoes look amazing, Tom,” I complimented Tom one day when he came over to look at my fledgling vegetable patch. “Any tips?” I asked.
Tom puffed up with pride. “Well, it’s all in the soil preparation…”
Jane and I swapped book recommendations regularly. “Oh, Emma, you have to read this one,” she’d say, pressing a novel into my hands. “It’s absolutely gripping.”
We gave them permission to use our garden and pool any time they wanted — we were set for our annual family vacation, so it felt good leaving the place for our new neighbors to enjoy.
Fast forward to last week. Mike and I returned from our vacation, and what we found left us livid. Our beautiful garden was trampled, the pool was filthy with debris, and there was garbage strewn all over the driveway. It was a complete nightmare.
“What the heck happened here?” Mike exclaimed, his face red with anger.
I clenched my fists. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
We marched over to the Johnsons’ house. I knocked on the door, my jaw set with determination. Jane answered with a smile that seemed a bit too wide.
“Hey, neighbors! How was your trip?” she chirped.
“What happened to our property?” Mike demanded to know, not standing for any small talk.
Tom stepped out to meet us on the porch, his face a mask of innocence. “That wasn’t us. You can’t prove anything,” he snapped.
I raised an eyebrow. “Why did you think we’d accuse you? Do you know who did this?”
Jane’s eyes darted nervously. “Oh, maybe it was the neighbors across the road? Ethan and his girlfriend — they’re a weird couple, bunch of hippies, if you ask me.”
“Right,” I said, not believing a word. “We’ll go check with them.”
We decided to check it out. Ethan answered the door, looking confused at our aggressive tone. His girlfriend, Olivia, stood next to him, equally bewildered.
“Look, we’re sorry to bother you,” I started, “but our property was vandalized while we were away. The Johnsons suggested it might have been you.”
Ethan’s eyes widened. “What? No way! We’ve barely left the house since moving in. We’ve been renovating.”
Olivia stepped forward. “Actually, we might be able to help. We installed security cameras last week. They cover part of your property too.”
“Really?” Mike perked up. “Would you mind if we took a look?”
Ethan nodded. “Of course, come on in.”
We watched the footage in disbelief. The Johnsons had thrown multiple parties at our house while we were away. Their guests had no respect for our property, and Jane and Tom did nothing to stop them.
“I can’t believe this,” I muttered, watching Jane laugh as her kid spray-painted our fence.
Mike’s fists were clenched. “Those lying, two-faced —”
“I’m so sorry,” Ethan said. “We had no idea this was happening.”
Olivia nodded. “Yeah, if we’d known, we would have said something.”
We thanked them for their help and left, fury building with each step back to the Johnsons’ house. This time, we didn’t bother knocking.
“Hey, Tom,” I called out. “Let’s talk again about the trash that mysteriously appeared on our property.”
Tom came to the door, opened it, and looked at me for a few moments, then he shrugged and offered lamely, “You’re blowing this out of proportion. It’s just some trash and a bit of paint. Kids will be kids, right?”
“Just some trash?” Mike exploded. “Our pool is filthy, our garden is destroyed, and there’s garbage all over our property!”
“And let’s not forget the multiple parties you threw at our house,” I added. “We saw the security footage.”
Jane’s face paled. “What footage?”
“Ethan and Olivia’s security cameras caught everything,” I explained, enjoying the look of panic on their faces.
Their smug attitudes fueled my anger. I knew it was time to teach them a lesson they wouldn’t forget.
That night, after the Johnsons had gone to bed, Mike and I put our plan into action. We gathered up all the garbage they’d left at our house, plus a few extra “presents” from our trash.
At midnight, we crept over to their yard. “Ready?” I whispered to Mike.
He nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let’s do this.”
We spread the trash all over their lawn and garden, making sure it was a complete mess. As a final touch, we let our kids paint whatever they wanted on the Johnsons’ front fence.
“Remember, kids,” I whispered, “be as creative as you want.”
Our daughter grinned, wielding her paintbrush like a weapon. “This is gonna be fun!”
The next morning, we woke up early to watch the show. Jane’s scream of disgust was music to my ears.
“Tom! Tom! Look at this!” she shrieked.
Tom stumbled out, and his jaw dropped at the sight. “What is this?”
We casually strolled over, coffee mugs in hand. “Everything okay?” I asked innocently.
Jane turned to us, her face red with anger. “Did you do this?”
I shrugged, mimicking Tom’s gesture from yesterday. “You’re blowing this out of proportion. It’s just some trash and a bit of paint.”
Mike chimed in, “Kids will be kids, right?”
The look on their faces was priceless. They knew they’d been caught, and there was nothing they could do about it.
“This is unacceptable!” Tom blustered. “We’ll report you to the homeowners’ association!”
I smiled sweetly. “Go ahead. I’m sure they’d love to see the footage of you vandalizing our property too.”
Jane’s face crumpled. “Why would you do this?”
“Why would we do this?” Mike repeated incredulously. “Are you serious? You trashed our house, threw parties without our permission, and let your guests destroy our property!”
“And then you lied about it,” I added. “You even tried to blame Ethan and Olivia.”
Tom had the decency to look ashamed. “We… we didn’t think you’d find out.”
“Well, we did,” I said firmly. “And now you know how it feels.”
Word spread quickly through the neighborhood. When Jane tried to complain to other neighbors, we simply showed them the footage of what the Johnsons had done to our property.
“I can’t believe they would do that,” our neighbor Mrs. Peterson said, shaking her head after watching the video. “And they seemed like such nice people.”
Another neighbor, Mr. Garcia, was equally disgusted. “That’s just not right. You can’t treat people’s property like that.”
Within days, the neighborhood had turned against them. They had no choice but to clean up their mess and change their ways.
As I watched them picking up trash from their lawn, I couldn’t help but think about that warning note. Sometimes, you need to stand up for yourself and teach people a lesson in respect. The Johnsons learned the hard way that treating others badly can come back to bite you.
“You know,” Mike said, putting his arm around me, “I’m glad we found that note, even if it was a little late.”
I nodded, leaning into him. “Me too. And next time, we’ll listen to warnings like that a lot sooner.”
We stood there, watching the Johnsons work, feeling satisfied that justice had been served. It wasn’t the welcome to the neighborhood we’d expected, but it sure made for one hell of a story.
As we turned to go back inside, I saw Ethan and Olivia walking down the street. They waved, and we waved back.
“You know,” I said to Mike, “I think we might have found some real friends in this neighborhood after all.”
What would you have done?
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