My Dad Invited My Brother and Me to His Wedding to the Woman He Ch.e.a.ted on Our Mom With –
He Had No Idea He’d Regret It Soon
A year after our dad left Mom for Dana, his coworker, destroying our family, my twelve-year-old brother Owen and I were invited to their wedding. Owen, once a soft-hearted kid, had grown quiet since Dad moved out. Despite his reluctance, family pressure convinced us to attend. A week before, Owen asked me to order itching powder online, claiming it was for a prank. I complied, still angry about Mom’s pain. At the wedding, Owen
offered to hang Dana’s jacket, calmly returning after. During the ceremony, Dana began scratching furiously, then fled mid-vows, re-emerging red and flustered in a new dress. The ceremony faltered, her perfect day ruined. Later, Dad puzzled over her reaction; I suggested detergent, keeping Owen’s secret. On the drive home, Owen said Dana’s humiliation would linger, unlike Mom’s endless tears. He didn’t seek revenge—just balance. Dad and Dana’s family are furious, calling us disturbed, but I feel no regret. Owen’s quiet justice, born from a broken heart, spoke louder than any adult’s intervention could.
