I thought faking a fiancé would finally let me step out of my sister’s shadow. But in the middle of my own scheme, I discovered that true love had been closer than I’d ever realized.
The moment I opened Mom’s letter, I felt a familiar wave of dread wash over me. The whole family was gathering for Christmas, including my sister Megan and her new boyfriend. Perfect Megan, with her perfect life.
I could already picture her—radiant, accomplished, with some dazzling guy by her side while I just sat there, blending into the background as usual.
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An idea hit me out of nowhere.
What if I show up with a fiancé of my own?
I looked around the office, and my gaze landed on Zach by the printer. He was organizing files. Reliable, responsible, and… not exactly “Prince Charming,” but he could work. And more importantly, he worked for me.
“Hey, Zach,” I called, strolling over casually.
He looked up. “Yes, Claire?”
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“Would you be interested in a, um, side project over the holidays?”
He raised an eyebrow. “A side project?”
“Yes, but more… personal,” I said, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. “It’s just a quick thing with my family. I need someone to… play a role.”
“A role? What kind of role?”
“My fiancé,” I replied, letting the word drop with a casual shrug.
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“Your… fiancé?” He looked like he’d misheard me.
“Yes, just for Christmas.” I grinned, hoping I looked more confident than I felt. “It’d be helping me out. My family is a little… competitive about relationships.”
He stared at me. “I don’t know, Claire… that seems… unusual.”
I leaned in, lowering my voice. “Think of it as an opportunity, Zach. It could be good for your career. You know, help things along.”
His eyes widened. “Oh, God, Claire. If it’s just for the holiday…”
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“Yes!” I clasped my hands together a bit too eagerly. “Just one holiday.”
“Fine. I’ll do it. But only this once.”
“Perfect,” I said, unable to hide my excitement. “All you need to do is show up, look convincing, and smile.”
***
As Zach and I walked up the long, winding path to my mom’s grand house, I clung tighter to his arm. Inside, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, yet my heart sank when I spotted Megan.
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She sat on the plush couch next to her boyfriend, Jason, laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world. Her hair was perfectly styled, her smile dazzling. She looked up, eyes glinting when she saw us.
“Well, well,” she drawled, standing up and sauntering over. “Claire! And… who’s this handsome man?” Her eyes swept over Zach with suspicion.
“This is Zach,” I said. “My boyfriend.”
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“Boyfriend, huh? Oh my, Claire, where did you find someone so… perfect?” She let the word linger, clearly enjoying the hint of doubt in her voice.
“Work. We met at work. He’s great, actually.”
Zach nodded, giving Megan a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Megan.”
Megan’s gaze lingered on us for a moment longer before she returned to Jason, whispering something in his ear that made him chuckle.
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My cheeks burned. I could tell she wasn’t buying our act for a second.
Later, while Zach was chatting with my dad, I overheard Megan and Jason talking in the hallway. I stopped, straining to listen.
“Can you believe it?” Megan was saying with a laugh. “Mom said she’d leave her inheritance to the first one of us who got married! Guess that means Claire and her ‘boyfriend’ are in a bit of a rush.”
Jason laughed softly. “You don’t think she’d actually…”
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“Oh, she’ll try, alright,” Megan replied. “But it’s Claire. She always falls short.”
So, Mom is turning our lives into some twisted race to the altar? Fine. If marriage is what Mom wants, then I’m ready to give her exactly that.
Later that evening, I dragged Zach to a small shop nearby and picked out the cheapest engagement ring I could find.
Holding it up, I said, “Tomorrow, at dinner, you’ll propose.”
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Zach’s eyes went wide. “Claire, are you serious?”
“Yes. It has to be done. You’ll understand soon.”
***
The Christmas dinner table was set to perfection. Crystal glasses sparkled under the warm lights, and holiday decorations framed every inch of the room. I glanced at Zach, who caught my gaze and gave me a small, frightened smile.
Then came the moment we’d practiced for, rehearsed like actors preparing for the role of a lifetime. I could only hope he’d remember his lines.
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“Everyone,” Zach said, clearing his throat as he stood up, his face pale but resolute. “I have something important to say.”
The room fell silent. My mother’s eyes lit up, practically sparkling. Megan raised an eyebrow, barely able to contain her smirk, and I could see Jason nudging her with an amused grin.
“Claire,” Zach began, turning toward me.
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I watched as he slipped his hand into his pocket, fingers grazing the cheap ring that we’d picked out together in that cramped jewelry store. My heart pounded so loudly that I was sure everyone could hear it.
“I never thought,” he began, glancing around the table, “that I’d find someone like Claire. She’s… well, she’s one of the most passionate people I know.”
He paused, and I saw something flicker in his eyes—maybe nerves or maybe something else.
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My mother clasped her hands with excitement. Megan smirked, folding her arms, clearly enjoying the performance. I forced myself to breathe, gripping my napkin so tightly my knuckles turned white.
Zach continued, “She pushes me to be better every day. And I realized… well, I realized that I couldn’t imagine my life without her.”
His voice softened, almost genuine, and for a moment, I felt the room fade as he looked at me. I nearly forgot we were pretending. Nearly.
“Will you marry me?”
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“Yes!” I clapped my hands together, throwing on the biggest smile I could muster. “Oh, I… I can’t believe it!” I gushed, practically shoving my hand out so he could slide the ring onto my trembling finger.
As he slipped the ring on, I was praying no one noticed the rush of desperation beneath it all.
“Oh, Claire, sweetheart!” Mom cried, practically bouncing in her seat. “This is just… wonderful! I’m so happy for you both!”
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As I tried to force a laugh, I could feel Megan’s eyes boring into me. But I was determined to play this role to the end, whatever it took.
“Oh, Claire, darling,” Mom continued. “You know, I’ve been saving something very special for this day.”
She hurried out of the room, her heels clicking with excitement. A few minutes later, she returned, carrying a box wrapped in delicate silk.
“This was my wedding dress,” she said, her eyes misty with nostalgia as she opened the box. “I saved it, hoping one day I could give it to one of my daughters. And now… it’s yours.”
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Mom’s joy, Zach’s quiet resignation, and Megan’s smirk—it was too much. I forced a smile, trying to keep my hands from shaking. “Oh, Mom, I… I don’t know what to say. This is… so generous.”
“Tomorrow,” Mom said, beaming, “we’ll have the ceremony. I’ve already called the family priest.”
Beside me, I felt Zach go rigid. His face was drained of color, and my own heart pounded with panic.
What have I done?
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***
The next day, just before I slipped into the wedding dress, Megan sidled up to me. She leaned in, her voice low and mocking.
“You know, I made up that whole inheritance story, right? Just to see what you’d do.”
“What?” I whispered, barely able to believe it.
She shrugged, feigning innocence. “I knew you’d overhear. I just didn’t think you’d actually fall for it this hard.”
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My face burned with anger and embarrassment. Megan tricked me, and I walked right into it. I was left with a choice: go through with that charade or run out and face the humiliation.
As I stepped up to the altar, dressed in my mother’s gown, the weight of it all hit me. The cheap ring on my finger felt heavy, like a reminder of every lie I’d told.
I looked over at Zach, who stood beside me, clearly trying to hold it together for my sake.
But is this how I want to spend this day for the sake of a ridiculous rivalry?
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In that final second, something in me snapped. I couldn’t do it. I pulled up my dress and bolted down the aisle, the fabric billowing behind me like a parachute. I didn’t look back, didn’t stop to see the stunned faces of my family or hear Megan’s laughter or… or… or see Zack’s eyes.
I just ran.
When I finally got home, reality crashed down like a wave. I let my jealousy, my need to prove myself, push me to this.
And now? Now, I have a cheap ring, a fake fiancé, and a sinking feeling of shame.
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***
Back at work, I went straight to my office, eager to start the day and hoping to shake off the embarrassment from the holiday disaster. But as I walked in, Zach’s desk was empty.
Puzzled, I glanced around, half-expecting him to walk through the door at any moment. Instead, I noticed a folded piece of paper on my desk, my name scrawled in Zach’s familiar handwriting.
My heart sank as I unfolded the note. It read:
“Claire, I’m sorry for leaving like this, but I think it’s for the best. I didn’t agree to be your fiancé for the promotion or because of the pressure. I did it because I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I wish things had been different, and I hope you find what you’re really looking for.”
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I hadn’t realized how blind I’d been to his real feelings. I sat there, realizing I’d just lost someone who genuinely cared.
Without a second thought, I grabbed my coat and headed out. I found Zach’s address in his employee file and drove to his apartment, determined to make things right.
***
When I arrived, the doctor let me in. Zach was sitting beside an elderly woman on the couch, holding her hand gently. She looked frail. She was probably his mom.
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As I took in the scene, everything clicked into place. He needed the income to help her.
I stepped forward.
“Zach, I had no idea… I’m so sorry for everything. I never considered what you were going through.”
Zach looked up, surprised but calm. “It’s alright, Claire. I didn’t expect you to understand.”
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I swallowed, feeling a surge of regret. “Let me help. With her medical bills, I mean. Please.”
After a long pause, he nodded. We sat together, talking about everything that had happened, the absurdity of our pretend engagement, and the misunderstandings that had piled up between us.
“You know… if you’re still interested, I’d like to go on a real date with you,” I finally confessed.
Zach smiled, and I felt my heart lighten. This time, there was no pretending.
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Bullied Guy Planned a Class Reunion on His Yacht – The Party Was Great until He Pulled out a 10-Year-Old Video
The class reunion on Mark’s yacht seemed like a dream come true until he fired up a video projector. As familiar faces from our past flickered across the screen, I realized this wasn’t a celebration — it was a reckoning, and we were trapped miles from shore.
I stared at the invitation in my hand, feeling a knot in my stomach. Mark, the kid we used to torment in high school, was throwing a class reunion on his yacht. Weird, right? I mean, who even owns a yacht at 28?
A hand holding a printed invitation | Source: Pexels
“You going to that thing?” my roommate asked, peering over my shoulder.
“I guess,” I shrugged. “Might as well see how everyone turned out.”
The afternoon of the party, I showed up in my best shirt, trying to look like I had my life together. As I stepped onto the yacht, I whistled. This thing was nicer than my entire apartment.
“Nick! You made it!” Mark’s voice boomed across the deck.
I turned and my jaw dropped. Gone was the chubby, brace-faced kid we used to pick on. In his place stood a confident, fit guy in an expensive suit.
A smartly-suited man standing on a yacht jetty | Source: Pexels
“Mark? Holy moly, man. You look… different,” I stammered.
He laughed, clapping me on the back. “Amazing what a decade and a few million dollars can do, right?”
As I mingled, I noticed something odd. Only a handful of people from our class were here. Mostly the popular crowd — or should I say, the mean crowd.
Amy, the queen bee, sauntered over. “Can you believe this? Guess karma doesn’t exist after all.”
I forced a smile, but something felt off. Why would Mark invite his former bullies to this swanky party?
A man setting out to sea on a yacht | Source: Pexels
“Nick, my man!” Chris, our old quarterback, stumbled over with a drink in hand. “Can you believe Marky Mark pulled this off? Who’d have thought the little nerd had it in him?”
I winced at his words. “Come on, Chris. That was a long time ago.”
“What? I’m complimenting the guy!” Chris defended, but his tone was still mocking.
As the party went on and we ventured further out to sea, I kept getting flashes of high school. Shoving Mark into lockers. Laughing as he ate lunch alone. God, we were such jerks.
A group of high school students posing in a hallway | Source: Pexels
“Having fun?” A guy with curly hair and glasses appeared next to me.
“Uh, yeah. I’m Nick. You are…?”
“Ben. Mark’s friend from high school.” His tone was cold.
“Oh, cool. I don’t remember you,” I said, trying to be friendly.
Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, you wouldn’t. I was the only one who was nice to Mark back then.”
Before I could respond, Mark clinked his glass. “Everyone! If I could have your attention please!”
The music faded and Mark moved to the front of the deck. A projector screen lowered behind him.
A man taking a position on the deck of a yacht | Source: Pexels
“I’m so glad you all could make it today,” he began, a weird smirk on his face. “I thought we could take a little trip down memory lane.”
The screen flickered to life and my blood ran cold. It was us. In high school. Tormenting Mark.
“Oh dear,” Amy whispered beside me.
We watched in horror as scene after scene played out. Us calling Mark names. Pushing him around. Laughing as he cried.
When it ended, Mark just stood there, letting the silence hang heavy.
A close-up of a serious-looking man on a yacht | Source: Midjourney
“You all remember those days, right?” he finally said. “Well, I haven’t forgotten either.”
Suddenly, the yacht’s engine roared to life. Panic set in as I realized we were moving further away from shore.
“What the hell, Mark?” Chris yelled, his earlier bravado gone.
Mark’s smile never wavered. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you. I just thought you all might enjoy a taste of isolation. Like I did.”
“This is insane,” Sophia cried. “I’m calling the police!”
“Good luck,” Mark chuckled. “No signal out here.” He shrugged off his jacket and held up a cocktail mockingly.
A man on the deck of a yacht, laughing | Source: Pexels
For the next hour, Mark went person by person, recounting every cruel thing we’d ever done to him. It was excruciating.
“Amy,” he said, turning to her. “Remember when you started that rumor about me having lice? I had to change schools for a month.”
Amy’s face crumpled. “I… I didn’t think…”
“Of course you didn’t,” Mark cut her off. “None of you did.”
A young man and woman having a conversation onboard a boat | Source: Pexels
He turned to Chris next. “And you, Mr. Big Shot Quarterback. Remember dunking my head in the toilet every day for a week?”
Chris looked like he might be sick. “Come on, man. That was just locker room stuff…”
“Was it?” Mark’s voice was ice cold. “Because it felt like torture to me.”
“Mark, come on,” Ben said softly. “This isn’t what we talked about.”
Wait, what? Ben was in on this?
“Shut up, Ben,” Mark snapped. “They need to understand.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. “Mark, stop! We get it, okay? What we did was awful. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
A man standing on the edge of the deck of a yacht, looking serious | Source: Midjourney
The yacht fell silent. Mark stared at me, his expression unreadable.
“You’re sorry?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, feeling tears prick my eyes. “We were stupid kids. But that’s no excuse. What we did to you was cruel and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m sorry, man. I really am.”
For a moment, Mark’s tough facade cracked. He looked… surprised.
“Nick,” he said slowly. “Do you remember the day you stole my clothes during gym class?”
I flinched at the memory. “Yeah. I do.”
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“I had to wear my gym shorts all day. Everyone laughed.”
“I know,” I said, my voice breaking. “It was an awful thing to do. I’ve felt guilty about it for years.”
Mark studied me for a long moment. “You have?”
Amy stepped forward, mascara streaking her cheeks. “I’m sorry too. Wow, I was such a cow back then.”
“We all were,” Sophia added quietly. “Mark, what we did… it was unforgivable.”
One by one, everyone started apologizing. Even Chris, who’d always been the worst, looked ashamed.
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“I… I didn’t expect this,” Mark admitted, his voice shaky.
Ben put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s time to head back, buddy.”
Mark nodded slowly. “Yeah. Maybe it is.”
We all stood in awkward silence. The sun was just starting to set, painting the sky in pinks and oranges.
“I forgive you,” Mark said quietly. “I just needed you to understand. To remember.”
We nodded, no one quite sure what to say. By this point, we were close to a small island. Someone had popped a bottle of champagne and handed it round in an attempt to break the silence.
A party aboard a boat | Source: Pexels
“So,” Chris ventured after a while. “You’re like, some big shot IT guy now?”
Mark chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Started my own cybersecurity firm a few years back.”
“That’s awesome, man,” I said sincerely. “You always were the smartest kid in class.”
“Didn’t feel that way back then,” Mark replied, but there was no bitterness in his tone now.
Amy cleared her throat. “Mark? I know we don’t deserve it, but… do you think we could start over? Maybe grab coffee sometime?”
A woman smiling, talking to a man on the deck of a boat | Source: Pexels
Mark considered this for a moment. “You know what? I’d like that. All of you,” he added, looking around. “If you want.”
Then, to everyone’s surprise, Mark’s serious expression melted into a grin. “Now that we’ve cleared the air, who’s ready for a real party?” The tension broke like a dam. Cheers erupted as Mark cranked up the music and popped open another bottle of champagne.
“Let’s moor off this little island,” he shouted over the beat. “The night’s still young!”
A man peers overboard towards a small offshore island | Source: Pexels
As we anchored near a picturesque cove, the party kicked into high gear. But this time, it felt different. Genuine. We weren’t just former classmates pretending to like each other. We were people reconnecting, learning who we’d become.
I found myself in deep conversation with Amy about her struggles as a single mom. Chris opened up about his failed pro career and subsequent depression. Even Ben, once standoffish, shared stories of his and Mark’s friendship over the years.
A woman aboard a yacht holds up a drink in celebration | Source: Pexels
As the sun dipped below the horizon, I realized we’d be partying through the night. For the first time, I felt like I was truly getting to know these people. And them, me.
Mark raised his glass for a final toast. “To new beginnings,” he said. We clinked our glasses, no longer trapped by our past, but looking forward to the future.
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