I caught my girlfriend of eight years cheating with my best friend at his wedding. But then I found out all of my friends knew and were laughing behind my back. So I acted like I didn’t know and threw this bombshell at his wedding—not just to ruin his wedding, but to ruin his entire life.

When I was in college, I was part of a pretty tight-knit group of friends from my department, and over the years we’ve stayed in touch. There were seven of us: four women and three men. One of the guys—let’s call him Ethan—was my college roommate, and we were literally inseparable. He’s been my best friend since our college days. And recently, I attended his wedding—which is where everything went wrong.

Out of this group, I’d also been dating one of the women for the past eight years. Let’s call her Nicole. For context, it was Nicole who was originally closer to these people, but after we started dating I kind of became a part of the group as well. Along with me, so did Ethan.

Nicole and I started dating in our second year. I was twenty back then, and for the past eight years we had grown together. We’d had a few rough patches, but we always managed to make it through. For the past year, I’d been talking to her about getting married, but she kept telling me she wasn’t ready yet. I found that really bizarre, because both of us were pretty sorted on the work front and we’d even been living together for the past four years. I really didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to get married.

I value my professional life, but I also want to get married and start a family. Nicole and I had been bickering a lot over that in the past few months. She thought I was rushing it—which didn’t make sense, because we had literally been together for eight years. She also claimed I needed to focus more on my work, which didn’t make sense either, because I made more money than anyone else I knew, and I’d been running my dad’s office supplies company for the past two years. Lots of men do extremely well career-wise while being married with kids, and I was ready to do it.

So I really didn’t think she had a point. I knew she was just refusing to get married because she didn’t want to commit to me, in spite of being with me for eight years. I was upset about that. We’d been fighting about it quite frequently for the past few months. But even then, we hadn’t broken up.

Given her behavior, it didn’t even occur to me that she might have been cheating on me, because she had been completely normal otherwise. Either she would apologize to me, or I would. At the end of the day, I thought we would always find our way back to each other.

But I don’t think that’s the case anymore. Because at Ethan’s wedding, I realized that she had probably been cheating on me for God knows how long. And the cherry on top? She had been cheating with my best friend—the groom himself.

I found out about it just a couple of days ago, when I saw them for myself making out in the parking lot—in my car, of all places they could have picked.

Instead of confronting them then and there, I decided to go the theatrical way. I would humiliate him publicly.

Nicole and I had driven to the hotel where Ethan was getting married the day before. That evening, we were supposed to attend the rehearsal dinner, but I was really tired from the journey, and I get really bad migraines sometimes. So I decided to skip it. Later in the evening, my migraine started to get worse. Since I’d forgotten my meds while packing, I had to go out to buy some. That’s how I ended up in the parking lot—because I didn’t want to walk. And that’s when I saw them, going at it in my car.

I think I stood there for about forty-five seconds. As soon as I realized what was happening, I turned around and started walking away. I had no idea what to do about what I had just seen. I don’t think they spotted me—they were too busy with each other.

By then, the rehearsal dinner was already over. So I decided to go to one of my friends’ rooms, so I could at least talk to them about what I’d just seen, hoping maybe they would comfort me, help me find the courage to confront Ethan and Nicole when they came back.

But instead, when I made my way to my friend’s room, I heard a bunch of voices from the inside. Our group was sitting there. Coincidentally, they were already talking about Nicole and Ethan.

Not only were they talking—they were laughing. Laughing behind my back about how clueless I was.

They knew. They had known all along. And they had been covering for the two of them.

Kyle, the only other guy in the group, made some joke about how they were going to get caught one of these days because of all the sneaking around they’d been doing—even during the wedding prep. Apparently, they’d even hooked up when I had gone home early from the engagement party. All of them found this very fun to talk about.

I was horrified at how casually they were discussing everything—as if my feelings didn’t matter at all.

So I just walked away from the door. Luckily, they hadn’t noticed me. They’d all had too much to drink.

That day was the worst of my life. But even then, after I went back to my room and cried for about fifteen minutes, I decided not to let anything show. I had already started formulating my plan. I was going to teach these people a lesson of a lifetime.

When Nicole finally came back to the room, I pretended everything was normal. We went to sleep without any discussion.

The next day—the day of the wedding—I greeted everybody normally. Everything seemed fine. Until I stood upright before the ceremony was supposed to start.

In front of all the guests, I said I wanted to make a speech in my friend’s honor.

That’s not how things are done, so obviously there were strange looks. Ethan probably thought I was going to make a heartfelt speech about how I was going to miss him, or something like that. He allowed it.

It was a big mistake.

Because I went on to talk about what I had seen the previous evening. And I also brought up what I had overheard our friends talking about in their room. The events at the engagement party. The laughing behind my back.

At least at that point, they had the good sense to look ashamed. But I didn’t care about them. I only cared about how Nicole and Ethan were going to react.

As soon as they realized what was going on, they tried to get me to stop.

It was easier for Nicole—she was right beside me, trying to get me to sit down and shut up. Ethan totally flipped out. He started accusing me of being jealous, telling me I was trying to ruin his wedding on purpose because my girlfriend wouldn’t propose to me, so I was trying to steal his thunder.

But he oversold it. He got too defensive. His fiancée ended up actually believing me. She walked off the stage.

When he realized he had been left at the altar, Ethan ran after her. The whole situation descended into pandemonium.

I couldn’t care less. I shook Nicole off, made my way to the parking lot where I had already stashed my bags, and drove back home.

Three days passed. For the first two days, silence. Then Nicole told me she and Ethan had been wrong—but what I had done was “psychotic.”

Apparently, I didn’t just ruin the wedding—I destroyed Ethan’s life.

His parents wanted nothing to do with him. His fiancée dumped him. He was broken and homeless.

She said he had been counting on the wedding to help him financially. If you catch my drift, he was a total gold digger. This wedding had been a sham from the beginning.

He and his fiancée hadn’t met through their parents earlier this year, like they’d told everyone. They had met on a dating app.

She was six years older, and her parents had given her an ultimatum: get married and settle down, or continue fooling around and get disinherited. She was willing to find somebody—but in reality, she had no interest in getting married. She’d been looking for someone who’d be okay with the idea of an open marriage, but had been unlucky. Until she met Ethan.

Ethan wasn’t keen on marriage either. He’d been unemployed for a year, drifting from job to job. All he wanted was to marry someone rich and be done with it. Lucky for him, her family was wealthy.

So they struck a deal. For a while, everything was sorted.

But then I made that speech. Since her parents had no idea about their arrangement, she had to leave him. No way would they approve of her marrying a man like that—especially after I humiliated the entire family in front of so many people.

So even if the arrangement had been convenient, it wasn’t going to work anymore. They had to call the whole thing off.

Ethan had been staying with his fiancée for the past couple of months, doing nothing productive. He’d quit his last sales job. Now, after the fiasco wedding, even his parents wouldn’t take him back. He had nowhere to go.

Nicole said I’d ruined his life. I didn’t agree. All he had to do was find a job and stick to it.

If anything, I’d probably done him a favor.

The only part I felt iffy about was humiliating both families publicly. I’d met Ethan’s parents—they were good people. My speech must have hurt them. That’s the only part that really stuck with me.

Maybe I could have confronted them privately, broken up with Nicole, and let it go in a healthier way. But now the drama was unleashed, and I felt strange about it.

It’s been two days since I posted. I haven’t replied to Nicole’s message. I’m not sorry.

I reacted in a harsh way because I was upset. If that reflects badly on other people, that’s not my problem.

It must have hurt his parents, but I can’t say I’m too sorry. Ethan was obviously not a good person. He deserved what he got.

I texted Nicole back, though—just to tell her she needs to come collect her things and get the heck out of here. I can’t stand the sight of her things in my house anymore. I’ve packed them in boxes.

She’s the only one I haven’t blocked yet, because I need to know when she’ll come by. After that, I’ll block her too. The rest of my friends are already blocked. Ethan was the first.

Now that some time has passed, the emotions are really hitting me. I wasn’t just betrayed by one person—I was betrayed by my girlfriend, my best friend, and all these people I thought were my family. Naturally, I’ve been very emotional.

Thankfully, my biological family has been by my side. They’ve been supportive, checking on me, making sure I’m taking care of myself. For that, I’m grateful.

Nine days after the incident, Nicole texted. She said she’d come collect her things in the evening.

When she arrived, I handed her the boxes. But she said she wanted to look through the house in case I’d missed anything. I let her. She took a few more items.

Then she started loitering in the living room. I asked if she was leaving. She said she wanted to talk.

She hoped I’d be more open to “addressing the problem” since time had passed.

It infuriated me. It hadn’t even been two weeks. She was speaking as if years had gone by.

She said that even though she cheated, I wasn’t perfect either. That our problems were mutual.

I lost it. I screamed at her. She screamed back, saying Ethan understood her in ways I never did.

I told her she was welcome here only to collect her things. She argued that I’d driven her away with my pressure about marriage. That she’d been with only me for eight years and didn’t even know who she was anymore.

I couldn’t believe she thought these were valid points. If she had a problem committing, the options were simple: keep talking and compromise, or break up. She chose a third: cheat on me and keep me around as backup.

She played the victim, pretending we were equally at fault. It made me furious.

Finally, I opened the door and stood silently beside it. She kept arguing for several minutes before she got the hint. As she walked out, she said, “Pretend to be a saint all you want, but deep down, both of us know it takes two people to ruin a relationship.”

She was right—it took two. Her and Ethan.

I shut the door, blocked her number, and felt relieved.

It’s been two years since my last update.

On the work front, everything is amazing. Better than before. I’ve become a fitness freak, and it feels good.

I haven’t had any contact with those people from college for two years. I don’t care how they’re doing.

My family has been there for me every step of the way. That’s all I need.

I have very few friends now, just a couple from school and some co-workers—but they’re good people who genuinely care.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been seeing someone. Dating had been off the table for me for a year because I was still dealing with the trauma. But then a friend introduced me to her cousin at a birthday party. She’s sweet, kind, and from the first time we met, I felt drawn to her.

We’ve been going out for a while. I told her everything about my last relationship, how long it lasted, and why I want to take it slow. She understands. She respects my opinions. She even told me she’s ready to wait because she thinks I’m the perfect guy for her.

We’re on the same page about marriage and kids.

I think I finally found someone right for me.

At least I’m happier than Nicole and Ethan, who got married a couple of months after my last update. They couldn’t even make it a year. They divorced within twelve months.

I found out from an old acquaintance who loves gossip.

Do I feel bad for them? Not at all.

If anything, I hope it serves as a lesson. But honestly, I doubt it. They’re horrible people.

What matters is that I’m truly over what happened.

And I’m happy.