At the wedding, my sister seated me in the farthest corner, but suddenly a stranger leaned toward me and quietly said, “Pretend we’re a couple — and your sister will seriously regret it”

At the wedding, my sister seated me in the farthest corner, but suddenly a stranger leaned toward me and quietly said, “Pretend we’re a couple — and your sister will seriously regret it.”

Me — a 32-year-old independent woman with my own apartment and a stable career — they placed at the most insignificant table, the twelfth one, right by the kitchen doors.

From there, waiters kept rushing out with trays, bumping into the back of my chair, and the strong smell of fried meat made it hard to breathe. At the table sat only a few younger relatives in their mid-twenties and a chatty aunt who kept repeating, with great importance, that “women shouldn’t wait too long to have children.”

My sister Mira spent the whole evening trying to make me look like a failure. She would drag me over to the wealthy guests on the groom’s side and loudly claim that I was “too picky,” or pretend to be sad that “such a wonderful woman is still single.”

People nodded along, gave me advice to “be simpler,” and someone even said I should “go to church more often.” And when it was time to toss the bouquet, my sister theatrically threw it in the opposite direction, as if by accident, then announced to the entire hall:

— Looks like my sister will have to wait a little longer.

I was already checking the time, mentally planning my escape through the kitchen, when I heard a calm, low, confident male voice behind me:

— Play along. Pretend you came here with me. I promise you — your sister will regret every word.

I turned around — and saw a man who literally took my breath away. Tall, well-groomed, in a perfect suit, with deep brown eyes and a touch of gray at his temples.

— Leon, — he introduced himself with a gentle smile. — The groom’s cousin.

Without asking permission, but doing it respectfully, he pulled up a chair and placed his hand on the back of mine. The room reacted instantly — whispers spread from table to table.

My sister, standing at the bar with a glass of champagne, froze. Her perfect smile cracked, and her expression shifted into something strange.

And only later did I learn who this stranger really was, and why all the guests were completely shocked. Continued in the first comment

Leon wasn’t just “a relative of the groom.” He turned out to be one of the wealthiest entrepreneurs in the region — a man whose name was known even to people far from the business world.

Young, successful, private, and — most importantly — single. The women at the wedding watched him from afar: some dreamed of getting closer, others tried to approach him, but he didn’t pay attention to anyone.

Until now.

Leon sat next to me as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He laughed, leaned closer, joked back, and completely ignored all the admiring glances around us.

Guests exchanged looks. Someone even dropped their jaw in surprise. And my sister looked at me as though the glass in her hand might shatter at any moment.