…scrolling through his social media again, searching for anything—an ex-girlfriend post, a suspicious comment, a tag from someone I could question. But there was nothing. Aaron’s profile was clean. Too clean. Like it had been curated.
That’s when I had an idea.
I reached out to a friend from college who worked in HR at a major hotel chain. “Hey,” I texted. “Do you still have access to the employee background database?”
It took some convincing, but eventually, she agreed to run a basic check using the info I had: Aaron’s full name, birthdate, and the bakery where he supposedly worked.
The next evening, she called me.
“You’re right. Something’s off,” she said.
My stomach dropped. “What did you find?”
“He’s never worked at the bakery he claimed. In fact, he’s had three different jobs in the past two years, none of which lasted more than a few months. There’s also a small-claims court record—he was sued by a former roommate for unpaid rent last year.”
I was stunned. “Why would he lie?”
“I don’t know. But someone hiding that much probably doesn’t have good intentions.”
I thanked her and hung up. My hands were shaking.
This was the proof I needed.
The next morning, I went to Mom’s house. She was in the kitchen, humming as she arranged flowers for the wedding.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she smiled. “You’re just in time to help with the seating chart.”
I sat down across from her. “Mom, I need to talk to you. Please just listen. I looked into Aaron.”
Her face darkened. “Casey…”
“No—listen. He lied to you. About his job. He’s not a pastry chef. He’s been job-hopping for years, and he was even sued for scamming his roommate.”
Her hands froze over the vase. “What are you talking about?”
I placed the printed documents on the table.
She read in silence. Her lips trembled. “Why… why wouldn’t he tell me?”
“Because he’s using you,” I said softly. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t want to hurt you. But I couldn’t let you marry someone who wasn’t being honest.”
Tears welled in her eyes. She nodded slowly. “I… I trusted him.”
I reached over and held her hand. “We’ll get through this. Together.”
That night, she confronted Aaron. He denied everything—at first. But once pressed, his charm faded. The truth came out.
The engagement was called off.
It took time for my mom to heal. But eventually, she thanked me—for protecting her, for trusting my instincts.
And me?
I realized love isn’t about fairy tales—it’s about truth. And sometimes, the hardest thing to do for someone you love is to protect them from their own heart.
The End.
