I Recognized a Beggar as My Fiancé Who Disappeared from Our Wedding 8 Years Ago — His Explanation Shocked Me

I never expected to see Jacob, my ex-fiancé, again, especially not as a beggar in Central Park. Confronting him unveiled a shocking betrayal that left me questioning everything I knew about my past and the people I trusted most.

“Come on, Nina, just one more slice of pizza before you go,” my old friend Eric insisted, flashing his signature grin.

“No way,” I laughed, “I have a flight to catch. And a Central Park stroll to make, remember?”

Eric rolled his eyes but waved me off. “Fine, but you’ll regret missing out on another slice of genuine New York pizza when you’re back in boring old St. Louis,” he jibed.

New York City pictured from above | Source: Pexels

New York City pictured from above | Source: Pexels

I laughed and hugged him and headed off to Central Park, savoring the last bit of my nostalgic trip. New York always had a way of making me feel so alive, but it also reminded me of Jacob somehow, and I had a strange feeling about him right then.

The weekend had been a whirlwind. I spent hours wandering through boutiques in SoHo, splurging on designer dresses and quirky accessories. The smell of leather from luxury handbags still lingered in my mind. Lunch at a trendy café, where I indulged in an avocado toast that tasted like heaven, was a highlight.

A woman shopping for dresses and shoes | Source: Pexels

A woman shopping for dresses and shoes | Source: Pexels

Dinner at a swanky rooftop restaurant with Eric, overlooking the city lights, had been the perfect way to end my day. New York was a feast for the senses, a place where I could lose myself in the crowds and flavors.

Eight years had passed since my wedding day disaster. I was at peace with it, or so I thought. That was until I saw him.

There he was, on a bench, looking like a ghost from the past, disheveled and begging. My heart stopped. Could it really be Jacob, my long-lost fiancé? I had to know.

A woman talking to a destitute man in a park | Source: Pexels

A woman talking to a destitute man in a park | Source: Pexels

“Jacob?” I approached cautiously.

He looked up, eyes widening in recognition. “Nina? Oh wow, it’s really you.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “What happened to you?”

He lowered his gaze, shame evident. “It’s a long story. Can we talk?”

I hesitated but then nodded, my curiosity getting the better of me. “Fine. Let’s get something to eat.”

A destitute man holding a sign | Source: Pexels

A destitute man holding a sign | Source: Pexels

We walked to a nearby café, the awkward silence between us growing with each step. I ordered two coffees and a couple of burgers, glancing at Jacob, who seemed lost in thought.

I handed him his cup, our fingers briefly touching, sending a jolt of memories through me. We walked back into the park, found a bench under a large oak tree, and sat down, the city bubbling around us.

“Start from the beginning,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee.

A man eating food on a park bench | Source: Pexels

A man eating food on a park bench | Source: Pexels

Jacob took a deep breath. “Two hours before our wedding, men came to my room. They said your father sent them.”

“My father?” I echoed, shocked.

“Yes,” he continued, “they took me away, beat me until I couldn’t remember anything. I ended up wandering, and now… this.”

I stared at him, disbelief mixing with pity. “Are you saying my father did this?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Jacob replied, eyes pleading for me to believe him.

I shook my head, trying to process it all. “They beat you up and then what?”

A woman eating a sandwich on a park bench | Source: Pexels

A woman eating a sandwich on a park bench | Source: Pexels

“They beat me until I couldn’t remember anything. I woke up in a hospital, bruised and disoriented. The doctors said I had amnesia,” Jacob explained, his voice trembling. “I didn’t even know my own name. They kept me for a while, but once I was physically stable, they discharged me. I had nowhere to go. No memory, no job, no life.”

I could see the pain in his eyes as he continued. “Without a past, I couldn’t move forward. I wandered the streets, trying to piece together fragments of who I was. The confusion and fear turned into depression. I couldn’t find work, couldn’t afford a place to stay. One bad turn led to another, and I ended up here, living day by day.”

A sad-looking man facing the camera | Source: Pexels

A sad-looking man facing the camera | Source: Pexels

He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Recently, some memories started coming back, but it’s like trying to grasp smoke. I remember bits of our life together, our plans, but it’s all so fragmented.”

Hearing this, my heart ached. The man I once loved had been reduced to this by forces beyond his control. “I… I don’t know what to say, Jacob. This is all so overwhelming.”

He nodded, understanding my struggle. “I get it, Nina. It’s a lot to take in. But I’m glad I got to tell you this now, so you can understand what happened to me.”

A woman on a bench with a concerned expression | Source: Pexels

A woman on a bench with a concerned expression | Source: Pexels

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. I looked at the man who once promised me a life together forever, now a shadow of his former self.

“I don’t know what to believe,” I finally said.

“I understand,” Jacob said quietly. “But I needed you to know.”

We finished our food in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. I got up to leave, looking at Jacob, still sitting on the bench.

“Take care, Jacob,” I said softly.

“You too, Nina,” he replied, not meeting my eyes.

A woman walking away in a park | Source: Pexels

A woman walking away in a park | Source: Pexels

I walked away, heart heavy with unresolved emotions. As I replayed our conversation in my mind, I suddenly realized I had left my bag on the bench next to Jacob.

Panicking, I rushed back and found it right where I had left it. My weekend in New York had taken a turn I never expected, and I wasn’t sure what to do next.

***

I spent the rest of the evening wandering the city, trying to shake off the encounter. The lights of Times Square, the crowds, and the noise all felt distant. I couldn’t get Jacob’s story out of my head.

A depiction of New York's Times Square at night | Source: Pexels

A depiction of New York’s Times Square at night | Source: Pexels

“Hey, Nina, you alright?” Eric’s voice brought me back to reality as I found myself back at his apartment.

“Yeah, just… a lot on my mind,” I replied, forcing a smile. “I decided not to take that flight home yet.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, concerned.

“In a way, I did,” I admitted. “I ran into Jacob.”

Eric’s eyes widened. “Jacob? Your Jacob?”

“Yeah, he’s… a mess. He told me some crazy story about my dad having him kidnapped.”

Eric shook his head. “That sounds nuts. You believe him?”

A woman and man conversing on a sofa in an apartment | Source: Pexels

A woman and man conversing on a sofa in an apartment | Source: Pexels

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “It’s too much to take in.”

“Look, why don’t you stay another day? Clear your head before you fly back,” Eric suggested.

“I can’t,” I said, though the offer was tempting. “I need to go home and sort this out.”

“Alright,” Eric said, giving me a hug. “But tell me if you need anything.”

The next morning, instead of heading straight to the airport, I found myself back at Central Park. The conversation with Jacob replayed in my mind. I had to understand more before leaving the city. Maybe it was curiosity, or maybe, it was a need for closure.

A woman making a call on a cell phone outdoors | Source: Pexels

A woman making a call on a cell phone outdoors | Source: Pexels

I wandered through the park, hoping to find Jacob again. As I passed by the bench where we had sat, a wave of emotion hit me. I sat down, trying to piece everything together.

I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease as I sat on the bench. Jacob’s story gnawed at me. It was too wild to be true, yet too detailed to be a lie. I needed answers.

“Hello, Dad?” I called my father, hoping for some clarity.

“Nina, what’s wrong? You sound upset,” he responded.

An older man talking on a cell phone | Source: Pexels

An older man talking on a cell phone | Source: Pexels

“I ran into Jacob,” I said, hearing the sharp intake of breath on the other end.

“That man has the nerve to show his face?” Dad’s voice was cold.

“He told me you had him kidnapped on our wedding day,” I blurted out.

“That’s absurd,” he replied, but there was hesitation in his voice.

“Is it? He said you hired men to beat him up and it left him with amnesia. He’s now homeless and lost in New York City.”

An woman sitting on a park bench with a cell phone in her hands | Source: Pexels

An woman sitting on a park bench with a cell phone in her hands | Source: Pexels

“Ridiculous. I paid him to leave you, Nina. He took the money and ran,” my father’s tone was harsh and defensive.

“So, you did interfere,” I said, anger rising.

“Yes, but for your own good. He wasn’t right for you,” he insisted.

“I can’t believe you,” I said, tears welling up. “You ruined everything.”

“Nina, please, I did it to protect you,” he pleaded, but I had already hung up and dropped my phone into my bag.

I sat for a long time, pondering what to do. Then it occurred to me to call Eric and ask him if I could stay longer in the city with him. As I rummaged in my bag for my phone, my pulse quickened.

A woman looks into in her handbag | Source: Pexels

A woman looks into in her handbag | Source: Pexels

My purse, which I had carefully placed inside, was missing. Then it hit me: yesterday, the bag had been on the bench between Jacob and me when we talked. The realization was like a punch to the gut. Had he taken my purse then? My trust, fragile already, shattered completely.

“Damn it,” I muttered, feeling panic and anger. I rifled through my bag, hoping I had just misplaced it, but it was nowhere to be found. A cold realization came over me. Jacob must have taken it when I had walked away and left it on the bench.

How could he do this? Was everything he said a lie? I felt betrayed all over again, by both Jacob and my father.

A woman contemplatives on a park bench | Source: Pexels

A woman contemplatives on a park bench | Source: Pexels

“Excuse me, miss, is everything alright?” a passerby asked, concern in his eyes.

“Not really,” I sighed, “but I’ll manage.”

I stood up, ready to face whatever came next. The past had reared its ugly head, but I wouldn’t let it define my future. It was time to move forward, one step at a time.

If you enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you about a father who hid a letter addressed to his daughter from her boyfriend, only for her to find it years later.

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.

This Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year

This Is How I Won a Prank War My Neighbor and I Had Going for the past Year

It started off innocently enough. Selene parked her car in the wrong parking spot, fueling a prank war with Paul, the real owner of the parking spot. As the months went by, the pair continued their prank war, but Selen started to wonder about the future of these seemingly innocent practical jokes. She took matters into her own hands and asked Paul out for dinner, under the guise of someone else. Will it be the ultimate prank or something more?

It all began with a parking mishap. It was just one innocent mistake that spiraled into a year-long prank war with my neighbor, Paul.

An apartment building parking lot | Source: Unsplash

An apartment building parking lot | Source: Unsplash

One evening, I accidentally parked in Paul’s parking spot in our apartment building’s lot. It was late, I was exhausted, and I just wanted to crawl into bed.

I didn’t think much of it until the next morning when I was on my way to the office. There, on my car, on an empty takeaway cup, a note was scrawled in messy handwriting.

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Pexels

A woman sleeping in bed | Source: Pexels

Thanks for ruining my day.

“Oh, crap,” I said to myself when I sat in the car. I needed to make amends.

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

A woman sitting in a car | Source: Pexels

The following morning, I left a warm cup of coffee on Paul’s car roof with a note that read:

Sorry for the mix-up. I hope this makes up for it.

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels

A person holding a cup of coffee | Source: Pexels

If you’re wondering, Paul and I didn’t know each other. We just lived in the same apartment block and knew everyone’s names and door numbers.

A few days later, I found a bill from a car-washing service under my windshield wiper. It seemed that Paul didn’t notice the coffee that I left and spilled it all over his car when he drove off.

A car in a car wash | Source: Pexels

A car in a car wash | Source: Pexels

I refused to pay the bill, and thus, the little war began.

“I think that you and this mysterious Paul are either going to fall in love or end up despising each other,” my friend Daphne said at work.

A smiling woman holding a folder | Source: Pexels

A smiling woman holding a folder | Source: Pexels

“Probably the latter,” I said. “It was all fine until he gave me a bill.”

“Selene,” she said knowingly, “I’m telling you, this is just the beginning.”

The next day, I left my work phone number on his car.

Call me regarding the payment.

A piece of paper on a car | Source: Midjourney

A piece of paper on a car | Source: Midjourney

Paul called me later that evening.

“Really? You thought that leaving coffee on the roof of a car was a good idea?” he asked, going straight into it.

“How was I supposed to know that you’d drive off without looking? Besides, it was a peace offering!”

A man using a phone | Source: Unsplash

A man using a phone | Source: Unsplash

“More like a disaster,” he said. “It was all over my window. Pay the car wash bill, please.”

“I’m not paying for it,” I said, hanging up.

After that, the pranks escalated quickly.

Spilled coffee in the air | Source: Pexels

Spilled coffee in the air | Source: Pexels

“I told you,” Daphne said when she came home with me one evening. “It’s going to get more intense. You need to listen to me. Trust me on this, you and this guy are going to get under each other’s skin.”

“I don’t know about that, Daph,” I said, dishing out the curry we had bought for dinner.

Bowls of curry and rice | Source: Unsplash

Bowls of curry and rice | Source: Unsplash

“But you’re having fun?” she asked, tearing into a piece of bread.

“I am!” I said. “Mainly because it’s nothing serious.”

Flatbread on a board | Source: Pexels

Flatbread on a board | Source: Pexels

One day, I found my car doors wrapped in plastic wrap.

The next week, I retaliated by covering Paul’s car in sticky notes, each one asking him to fix his parking.

A person tearing through plastic wrap | Source: Pexels

A person tearing through plastic wrap | Source: Pexels

“If it rains tonight,” Paul said, immediately calling me after seeing the sticky notes, “you’ll have a mushy mess of paper to clean up.”

“I think you’ll figure it out for yourself,” I said, hiding behind my curtain.

A car covered in sticky notes | Source: Midjourney

A car covered in sticky notes | Source: Midjourney

I had to admit, I was attracted to him. I didn’t know if Paul knew who I was, but it was easier for me to watch him from my apartment. I had gotten used to watching him wash his car.

It turned out that it was comforting. There was a sense of intimacy that we had built up.

A person hiding behind blinds | Source: Unsplash

A person hiding behind blinds | Source: Unsplash

After months of back-and-forth pranks, ranging from balloons tied onto car handles and window wipers, to fake parking tickets, I decided that it was time to end the war.

“But you need a grand finale,” Daphne said as we sat in our office, trying to work through month-end reports.

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

A woman using a laptop | Source: Pexels

“Like what?” I asked, typing away at my keyboard.

“You’re into him, right?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“I think so,” I said. “But I don’t know much about him.”

A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels

A woman drinking coffee | Source: Pexels

“Then get to know him,” my friend pressed on. “There’s something there; if not, this would have ended a long time ago.”

“Fine,” I said. “But you write the note. He knows my handwriting now.”

We intended to write a note from a secret admirer.

A person writing a note | Source: Pexels

A person writing a note | Source: Pexels

“She can just be someone from your apartment,” Daphne said. “And it’s not like you and Paul have even interacted in person, Selene. To be honest, I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay anonymous for so long.”

“It’s the thrill of it,” I said.

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

A smiling woman | Source: Unsplash

Early the next morning, I left the note that Daphne had written on Paul’s car.

Hey, I saw you leaving your car and couldn’t help but notice how handsome you are. Let’s have dinner?

I added my personal number that he wouldn’t recognize at the bottom.

A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

A folded piece of paper | Source: Midjourney

To my surprise, Paul called me later that morning.

“Selene, you’ll never guess what happened!” he said excitedly. “Some woman left me a note on my car.”

“Really?” I asked, feigning surprise. “What did it say?”

A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels

A woman on the phone | Source: Pexels

“She said that I was handsome and she wanted to have dinner. She left her number, too. So, I’m going to text her and go.”

Paul took the bait and texted me. We set up a date, and I, still pretending to be someone else, agreed to meet him at a local restaurant.

A table at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A table at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

I was already seated, suddenly nervous. We had been at this for so long; what if everything blew up in my face?

What if I was living in a romantic comedy and Paul actually couldn’t stand me?

Almost ready to leave, Paul walked into the restaurant.

A man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A man in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Hey, you’re here! You look familiar,” he said. “But I suppose I have seen you around the building.”

He spoke quickly, as though he was just as nervous.

“I’m sure that’s exactly it,” I said, smiling.

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

A smiling man | Source: Pexels

“Your voice reminds me of my neighbor, Selene. I’m sure you’ve seen us pranking each other recently,” he chuckled, his eyes glazing over as if lost in a memory.

“What’s that been like?” I asked.

A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A smiling woman at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Well, Daphne,” he said, as I had introduced myself over text, “it’s been hilarious. It’s been the best few months of my life.”

“It sounds like she’s grown on you,” I said, smiling.

“She’s feisty, all right,” he said, ordering himself a whiskey.

A man holding a glass of whiskey | Source: Pexels

A man holding a glass of whiskey | Source: Pexels

The rest of the evening went by smoothly, but the more Paul spoke, the more I found myself genuinely enjoying his company. He was charming, funny, and surprisingly sweet.

By the time our meals arrived, I couldn’t keep the truth from him any longer.

Plates of food at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Plates of food at a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

“Paul,” I said, picking up my cocktail, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s that?” he asked, looking me in the eye.

“I haven’t been very honest about this date,” I said slowly. “I’m Selene.”

A cocktail on a table | Source: Pexels

A cocktail on a table | Source: Pexels

Paul’s jaw dropped.

“Wait, really?” he asked. “Why did you want to meet like this?”

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “Call it insecurity? Daphne is my best friend; I asked her to write the note, and I used her name. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have deceived you.”

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

A shocked man | Source: Pexels

“No, no,” he said, a large smile forming on his face. “I’ve never had this much fun with anyone. I’m glad we got to meet. Finally.”

The rest of the evening went much smoother, knowing that we had something in common. It was something to bond over. And more than that, there was chemistry between us. It wasn’t just me.

“I’m glad we did this,” Paul said as we went our separate ways in the parking lot. “It needed to happen.”

An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels

An empty parking lot | Source: Pexels

“And now, we’re here,” I said, taking his hand, suddenly feeling brave.

I don’t know where our relationship will go or what it will become, but I do know that I’ve taken the first step toward something.

What would you have done?

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

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