To Save My Father, I Pretended to Be a Stranger’s Fiancée, But I Never Expected to Fall for the Wrong Brother — Story of the Day

I was drowning in hospital bills when a stranger in a suit offered me a deal: pretend to be his fiancée, and he’d save my father’s life. I had no choice but to say yes. Then I met his brother…

The day started like any other, but by noon, my entire world had collapsed.

My phone buzzed just as I was locking my apartment door. I almost didn’t answer: spam calls had been relentless lately, but something made me pick up.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Miss Carter?” The voice was calm and professional. “This is Dr. Reynolds. I’m calling about your father.”

“Is he okay?” My voice cracked on the last word.

There was a pause, a measured breath. “His condition has worsened. He needs surgery immediately. Without it… his chances are low.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I pressed my back against the doorframe, gripping the phone so hard my fingers ached.

“How much?”

The number crashed over me like a tidal wave. Too high. Impossible. I barely heard anything after that.

I just murmured a weak “I’ll figure it out” before ending the call.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But I had nothing. No savings. No family to ask for help. Just a café job that barely covered rent.

By the time I arrived at work, my chest felt hollow. I barely noticed the smell of coffee beans or the familiar chime of the bell as I pushed through the door. I made a beeline for my manager.

“Lisa, I… I need an advance. Please. Anything you can spare.”

Lisa’s face softened, but her hands twisted nervously.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Sophie, I wish I could do more. Two months’ salary is the best I can offer.”

It wasn’t enough. But I forced a nod, blinking hard.

“Thank you. I… I appreciate it.”

The weight in my chest only grew heavier. Two months’ salary wasn’t nearly enough. It wouldn’t even cover half of what I needed.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I blinked hard, willing the sting behind my eyes to disappear. Crying wouldn’t fix anything. Exhaling shakily, I turned back toward the café floor. And that’s when I felt it.

Someone was watching me.

The sensation crawled up my spine, a quiet, lingering gaze that felt too deliberate to ignore. I glanced up. A man sat near the window, his eyes locked onto me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He wasn’t pretending to skim a menu or glance around absentmindedly. He was watching. Listening.

The café wasn’t loud. My conversation with Lisa hadn’t been a whisper. He must have caught every desperate word. Heat rushed to my cheeks.

Who is he?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For months, another man always sat in that spot. We had never spoken beyond polite exchanges, but I noticed him. He never rushed, never buried himself in his phone, never seemed in a hurry to leave.

He always ordered the same thing. Black coffee. No sugar. No cream.

I even started adding an extra cookie to his plate. He never said anything, never questioned it, but he always smiled before leaving.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

And I had foolishly imagined, just once, that maybe one day he’d do more than smile.

But that day, he wasn’t there. Instead, a different man sat in his place.

Older. Sharper. Dressed in a suit that radiated quiet authority. He stirred his coffee with slow, deliberate movements, his gaze flicking toward me before shifting away.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I forced myself to move, to pretend I hadn’t noticed. But my stomach twisted.

I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know what he wanted.

And I had no idea that by the end of the night, he would change everything.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Later that evening, I walked home, my body aching from the long shift, my mind tangled in numbers, hospital bills, and the crushing weight of impossibility. I barely noticed the cold creeping through my thin jacket or the flickering streetlights overhead.

I just kept walking. The streets were quiet, the usual city hum softened by the late hour.

Then, a car slowed beside me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I stiffened, gripping my bag a little tighter. The tinted window rolled down, and a deep, controlled voice called my name.

“Sophie.”

I froze mid-step.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

It was him. The man from the café. The one who had taken the seat of my regular customer that day—the one I always brought an extra cookie to.

Every instinct screamed at me, “Keep walking! Ignore him. This is how true crime documentaries start.”

But something about his tone made me pause. It wasn’t commanding. It wasn’t threatening. It was… certain.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“You don’t need to be afraid,” he said, as if reading my thoughts. “I just want to talk.”

I turned, keeping a cautious distance. “Who are you?”

“Steven.”

He leaned slightly toward the open window, his dark eyes sharp, assessing.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Get in. I’ll explain everything.”

I huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

His lips twitched.

“Fair enough.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He exhaled, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “Then I’ll talk here.”

“I’m listening.”

His gaze met mine.

“My father is handing over control of our family business soon. But there’s a condition—he wants to see me as a settled man. Stable. Engaged.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“And that affects me how?”

Steven studied me for a moment. Then, with a quiet certainty, he said, “Because I need a fiancée.”

I let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He let the silence stretch just long enough before adding, “And you need money. I heard you talking to your manager.”

My fingers curled into fists. “You were listening?”

“I see an opportunity, I take it. You need money. I need a fiancée. It’s simple.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Simple. Right. Except nothing about this feels simple at all.

“You… want me to pretend to be your fiancée?”

“A few weeks. Public appearances. My father believes I’ve finally settled down, and in return… I’ll pay for your father’s surgery.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I could refuse. Walk away. Pretend this conversation never happened. But then what? My father would suffer. His condition would worsen.

I didn’t remember saying yes. But an hour later, I was in a dressing room, surrounded by silk dresses and designer heels, staring at a reflection I didn’t recognize.

The girl in the mirror looked polished. Elegant. Someone who belonged in Steven’s world.

I wasn’t that girl. But for the following few weeks… I would have to be.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

Steven’s father’s birthday came. It was our grand debut as a couple.

The mansion was breathtaking. It wasn’t just big, the kind of place you saw in magazines, the kind of house that didn’t feel real.

A live band played soft jazz in the background, and waiters in crisp black uniforms weaved through the crowd with trays of champagne.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I kept my shoulders back, my posture perfect, just as Steven had instructed. Every movement mattered. Every glance, every smile. We were on display.

Steven played his part flawlessly. He smiled at all the right moments and whispered small reassurances whenever I hesitated.

“Relax,” he murmured in my ear as we walked further into the room. “You look perfect.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

His father, a tall, commanding man approached us. His sharp eyes scanned me from head to toe.

“Father,” Steven said smoothly. “This is Sophie.”

“Ah, so this is the young woman you’ve been hiding from us,” his father said, his voice rich with skepticism. “Lovely.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

And then I saw him. My regular. The man whose absence I had felt that very morning. The one I had secretly admired for months without knowing his name.

But finally, I did. Steven’s father introduced him with a proud smile.

Oliver. Steven’s brother.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

His gaze locked onto mine, and I knew instantly—he recognized me too. He didn’t approach right away. He waited. He watched. And then, when the moment was just right, he made his move.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said casually, stepping closer.

“Oliver…”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“You know, I’ve spent months trying to work up the nerve to ask you out. But it turns out I didn’t need to. My brother beat me to it.”

“I…”

“I came to that café every morning just to see you,” he continued, ignoring my attempt to speak. “I thought maybe one day, I’d stop being a coward and say something. But I never did.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He let out a quiet laugh. “Instead, I followed you home a few times. Not in a creepy way…”

“Oliver.”

“…just because I couldn’t find the right words.”

I could tell him the truth. I could explain everything and end the lie before it spiraled any further.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But then my father’s face flashed in my mind. The hospital. The money.

I turned away, slipped my hand into Steven’s, and leaned up to kiss him.

The first time a lie had ever tasted so bitter.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

The next morning, Steven placed a check in front of me.

“Here.”

I stared at the paper. The amount was more than enough to cover my father’s surgery and keep him comfortable for months. My hands trembled as I picked it up. But instead of relief, all I felt was emptiness.

“You are playing your part well. Maybe we should continue this… see if there’s something real between us.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I set the check back on the table.

“I can’t. I thought I could pretend, but even one more day would be unbearable. The truth is… from the very beginning, I’ve been in love with your brother.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For a moment, Steven said nothing. His jaw tightened, his fingers tapping against the table. I braced for anger, accusations, something. But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm.

“I can’t keep you here. Thank you for the evening.”

His eyes flicked to the check on the table before he pocketed it without a word. Then, without another glance, he walked out, leaving me alone.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

The following night, just as I was locking up the café, the door opened.

Oliver! He stepped forward, holding something out.

“Take it,” he said, pressing the paycheck into my hands. “Even if we never see each other again. I want to help your father.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He knew. Steven must have told him everything.

“Oliver, I…”

“You didn’t have to lie,” he interrupted gently. “You could’ve just asked. I would have helped. No deals. No charades.”

Tears burned at the back of my eyes. I looked down at the check, then back at him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I was always happy when you came to the café. I used to put an extra cookie on your plate, hoping you’d notice.”

“I noticed.”

“I made a desperate choice. I just wanted to help my father…”

“You don’t have to explain. Steven realized his mistake because of how honest you were. And because of that, I get to be here with you now.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The burden of guilt, of fear, of uncertainty, it wasn’t all gone, but it was lighter. Oliver glanced at the check in my hands, then back at me.

“Come on. Let’s go to the hospital and talk to the doctor about your dad’s treatment.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of everything settle into something new. Something right. I nodded, letting him take my hand. That time, I wasn’t walking my road alone.

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: The elderly man at my café ordered dinner for two, but no one ever came. When I learned why, I couldn’t walk away. His love had vanished a year ago—without a trace. What I uncovered changed everything.

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.

I Returned Home from a Long Trip without Warning My Husband and Found a Strange Child Inside – ‘I Live Here,’ He Said

I came home unexpectedly from a long trip to find a strange child in my living room. The boy said he lived there, and as I followed his innocent directions to the bedroom, I uncovered a truth about my husband’s involvement that shattered my world.

As I pushed open the front door, my kids darted past me into the house, yelling “Surprise!” Their voices echoed in the house. But something felt off. There were shoes by the door that didn’t belong to us. A couple of pairs were small, definitely children’s shoes, but not my children’s. I froze.

A line of unfamiliar shoes by the front door, hinting at a mystery | Source: Pexels

A line of unfamiliar shoes by the front door, hinting at a mystery | Source: Pexels

“Mom, why are there other people’s shoes here?” Emma asked, her brow furrowed.

I forced a smile. “Probably some guests. Let’s find Dad and see.”

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and moved toward the living room. My steps were slow, deliberate. I peeked around the corner and there he was: a young boy, maybe four years old, sitting in our living room, engrossed in cartoons on the TV.

The boy turned to look at me, unfazed. “Hi,” he said with a toothy grin.

A young boy named Jason smiling innocently in the living room | Source: Pexels

A young boy named Jason smiling innocently in the living room | Source: Pexels

“Hi there,” I replied, my voice shaky. “Who are you?”

“I’m Jason,” he said. “I live here.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You… live here?” I repeated, more to myself than to him. “Where are your parents, Jason?”

He pointed toward the hallway. “In the bedroom.”

I stood there, rooted to the spot. How could this be? I had only been gone for three weeks. I needed answers. I needed to see Ian, my husband.

Julia's shocked face as she hears Jason's claim of living there | Source: Pexels

Julia’s shocked face as she hears Jason’s claim of living there | Source: Pexels

“Stay here, kids,” I whispered to Emma and Max, who were now eyeing Jason curiously. “I’ll be right back.”

Each step toward the bedroom felt heavier than the last. My hands trembled as I reached for the doorknob. I paused, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

Inside, the sight that met my eyes made my stomach churn. Ian was in bed with another woman. They sprang apart, eyes wide with shock, as if they’d seen a ghost. The woman, a brunette with soft features, clutched the sheets to her chest.

Ian and Sophie, caught in bed | Source: Pexels

Ian and Sophie, caught in bed | Source: Pexels

“Julia!” Ian stammered, scrambling to his feet. “What are you doing here?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My eyes darted between them, then back to Ian. I wanted to scream, cry, or do anything but stand there in stunned silence.

“Who is she?” I finally managed to choke out.

“I’m Sophie,” the woman said, her voice trembling. “I… I thought — “

I held up a hand to stop her. “Save it,” I snapped. I turned to Ian, my voice rising. “Who is she, Ian? And who is that child?”

Julia confronting Ian and Sophie in the bedroom | Source: Midjourney

Julia confronting Ian and Sophie in the bedroom | Source: Midjourney

Ian looked like he might faint. “I can explain, Julia. Please, just — “

“Explain?!” I cut him off. “Explain what? That you’ve been lying to me? That there’s another family in my house?”

Sophie looked horrified. “Ian told me you were separated! That you were out of the picture!”

I glared at Ian. “Out of the picture? That’s rich. I’ve been at my parents’ for three weeks, taking care of my sick mother, while you… you — “

“Julia, please,” Ian begged. “Let me talk.”

Julia turns her back on Ian and walks away | Source: Midjourney

Julia turns her back on Ian and walks away | Source: Midjourney

“No,” I said, my voice hard. “No more lies.”

I stormed out of the room, my mind in a whirlwind. Emma and Max were in the living room, still talking to Jason. I couldn’t bear to look at them, not now. I needed air. I needed to think.

I stepped outside, the cool air hitting my face like a splash of cold water. My hands shook as I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts. There was no one I could think to call, no one who could help me make sense of this.

Julia getting a breath of air outside and thinking about who to call | Source: Pexels

Julia getting a breath of air outside and thinking about who to call | Source: Pexels

I had to gather myself and face this chaos head-on. The betrayal cut deep, like a knife. But beneath the pain, anger simmered, waiting to boil over.

Inside, I could hear Ian’s muffled voice, trying to explain, to justify his behavior to the other woman. But there was no justification for this. For tearing our family apart, for lying to me, to our kids.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm inside me. I had to be strong, for Emma and Max. I couldn’t let Ian’s betrayal break me.

Julia beside one of her children, trying to maintain composure | Source: Pexels

Julia beside one of her children, trying to maintain composure | Source: Pexels

With renewed determination, I walked back into the house. Emma and Max looked up at me, their eyes wide with confusion. Little Jason still sat on the couch, oblivious to the turmoil he had unknowingly revealed.

“Mom?” Emma asked, her voice small. “What’s going on?”

I knelt down beside them, forcing a smile. “We’ll talk about it later, sweetie. Right now, let’s get some dinner, okay?”

They nodded, sensing my need for a momentary distraction. I led them to the kitchen, my mind still reeling, but my resolve strengthened with every step.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Sophie and Julia confront each other in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Sophie and Julia confront each other in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Sophie, equally stunned and devastated, joined me in the kitchen after Ian finally left, dragging his suitcase behind him. Sophie, to her credit, had ordered him out of the house. We sat in silence, the weight of the evening pressing down on us.

“I can’t believe this,” Sophie said, her voice breaking. “He told me you were dead. That you died four years ago. I never doubted him.”

I shook my head, feeling the sting of betrayal all over again. “I don’t understand how he could live this double life. It’s like I never really knew him.”

Sophie looked at me with tear-filled eyes. “I’m so sorry, Julia. I had no idea. If I had known — “

Sophie and Julia chatting and sharing their disappointment | Source: Pexels

Sophie and Julia chatting and sharing their disappointment | Source: Pexels

“It’s not your fault,” I interrupted, my voice softer now. “He’s the one who lied to both of us.”

We shared a bottle of wine, the alcohol dulling the edges of our pain. We cried and talked, finding an unexpected solace in each other’s company. The betrayal had shattered us both, but in that shattering, a fragile bond began to form.

As the night wore on, Sophie mentioned something that ignited a spark of determination in me. “I found a dating profile a while back. It had Ian’s picture, but he used a different name. I was too scared to confront him about it.”

I sat up straighter, “A dating profile?”

Sophie nodded. “Yes. I didn’t know what to do.”

Sophie sadly explaining how Ian deceived her | Source: Midjourney

Sophie sadly explaining how Ian deceived her | Source: Midjourney

An idea began to form, and I felt a surge of energy. “We need to make him pay for what he’s done. Let’s create a fake profile. We’ll use photos of Ian’s boss, Brian, and his wife, Lisa. We’ll lure Ian into a compromising conversation, get him to reveal all his dirty secrets.”

Sophie looked at me, her eyes wide with hope, but also doubt. “And then what?”

“Then we send it all to Brian. Let him deal with Ian.”

Sophie and Julia creating a fake dating profile of Ian together | Source: Pexels

Sophie and Julia creating a fake dating profile of Ian together | Source: Pexels

We spent the next few days putting our plan into action. We created the profile, carefully choosing photos of Lisa that would draw Ian in. It didn’t take long for him to bite.

***

Ian fell for the bait, hook, line, and sinker. He believed he was talking to Brian’s wife and soon started disparaging Brian, revealing all kinds of personal and damaging information. The final straw was when he agreed to meet at a hotel.

We took screenshots of everything and sent them to Brian, along with an explanation of who we were and why we were doing this. The response was swift.

Brian takes the bait on a dating app, incriminating himself | Source: Pexels

Brian takes the bait on a dating app, incriminating himself | Source: Pexels

Ian was called into a meeting with Brian and was fired on the spot for his appalling dishonesty and disloyalty. When he returned to pack his things, his face was a mask of defeat.

“You did this,” he accused, his voice bitter.

I looked him in the eye, my voice cold. “You did this to yourself, Ian. Now get out of my house.”

With Ian out of our lives, Sophie and I found solace in each other. We supported each other through the emotional aftermath, focusing on rebuilding our lives.

As the days passed, our bond grew stronger, turning our shared pain into a source of empowerment. We were no longer victims of Ian’s deceit but survivors who had found strength in each other.

Ian leaving the house for good, in shame | Source: Midjourney

Ian leaving the house for good, in shame | Source: Midjourney

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