The morning of my wedding was perfect—chaotic, exciting, and filled with love. While waiting for my bouquet delivery, I noticed an old woman in my driveway. Her wild gray hair and piercing eyes held me in place as she asked to read my palm. Though skeptical, I let her.

She revealed startling truths: David, my fiancé, had a heart-shaped birthmark and a mother who wasn’t part of his life—facts she couldn’t have known. Her chilling warning echoed: “Love built on lies will crumble. Check the stuffed rabbit in his closet.”

Unable to shake her words, I found the rabbit in David’s closet. Inside, notes revealed his mother was alive, begging to reconnect. David had lied. When confronted, he confessed his father had forced him to abandon her after their divorce, leaving her in poverty and heartbreak.

I called off the wedding and told him to reconcile with her before we could move forward. That evening, David returned, tearful but relieved, with the old woman. She was his mother, Estelle—the same woman who had come to warn me.

In the months that followed, David rebuilt their relationship, and we supported Estelle’s medical care. His father admitted to pushing her away, leaving a rift that David chose to manage for his mother’s sake.

When David and I finally married, Estelle stood proudly by our side. Love isn’t always perfect; sometimes, it’s about uncovering truths and rebuilding broken bonds.