Old Woman Took My Hand and Started Predicting My Future, Persuading Me to Cancel My Wedding

When a strange woman grabbed my hand and warned me not to go through with my wedding, I brushed it off. But when I discovered she was a paid actress, I had to know: who would go to such lengths to stop me from marrying the man I loved?

I’ve never been the superstitious type. I’m Penelope, just your average woman balancing work, wedding plans, and time with my best friend, Esther. Lately, life has been a whirlwind of excitement. Cameron, my fiancé, is everything I could ever ask for—thoughtful, funny, and supportive.

Our wedding was just two months away, and Esther was right by my side, helping me pick out flower arrangements, dresses, and more. We were inseparable during the wedding planning chaos.

It was just a regular Saturday afternoon when everything started to go haywire. Esther and I had spent the morning browsing through dresses at our favorite boutique. Afterward, we headed to the grocery store to grab a few things for the week. We were halfway down the cereal aisle when I noticed a woman standing way too close behind me.

I turned around and found myself face-to-face with a disheveled older woman. Her dark, messy hair framed piercing eyes that locked onto mine. Without warning, she grabbed my hand tightly.

“I feel four scars,” she rasped, her voice low and unsettling. “All on your legs. From an animal… a wolf?”

I froze. My heart nearly stopped. How could she know about the scars on my legs? They were from a wolf attack I survived when I was five years old during a family camping trip. Only a few people knew about that, so how on earth did she?

Esther, who had been distracted on her phone, suddenly noticed the woman gripping my hand. “Hey! Let go of her!” she demanded, stepping closer, ready to intervene.

The woman’s focus didn’t waver from me. “I see your upcoming wedding,” she murmured, tightening her grip. “Don’t do it. Trouble awaits you.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. How did she know about my wedding? What kind of trouble was she talking about?

Before I could ask her anything, Esther yanked my hand free. “Are you insane? Get out of here!” she snapped, pushing the woman back.

The woman blinked, almost like she was waking from a trance, and then slinked away without another word. I stood there, heart racing, staring after her.

“Penelope, are you okay?” Esther asked, her voice softening. “She was probably just a crazy person. Don’t let it bother you.”

I laughed it off, trying to shrug it away. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I said, though her words gnawed at me for the next two weeks. “Don’t do it. Trouble awaits you.” The warning echoed in my mind, and no matter how much I tried to forget, I couldn’t shake the unease it left behind.

Then, just yesterday, while I was having lunch with my mom at a café, I spotted someone across the street. It was her again—at least, I thought it was. But this time, her hair was blonde, and she looked totally different. Yet, something about her seemed eerily familiar.

Without thinking, I bolted from my seat and ran after her. “Hey! Wait!” I shouted, catching up to her just as she was about to enter a shop.

She turned, startled. “Let me go!” she shrieked as I grabbed her wrist.

“Who are you?” I demanded, refusing to let go.

She hesitated for a moment, then sighed in defeat. “I’m an actress,” she admitted. “I was paid to scare you into calling off your wedding.”

My heart plummeted. “Paid? By who?”

She reluctantly pulled out her phone, showing me a picture that made my stomach drop.

It was Cameron. My fiancé. The man I was supposed to marry in a few months.

“He… he paid you?” I could barely get the words out, my voice breaking with disbelief.

The actress fidgeted nervously. “He didn’t want to go through with the wedding and didn’t know how to tell you,” she confessed.

I felt numb. Cameron had hired a stranger to manipulate me into calling off our wedding instead of simply being honest. The cowardice of it was almost laughable.

I couldn’t believe it. Rage bubbled up inside me, but it wasn’t the kind that made me want to scream. No, this anger was cold and calculating.

That night, I acted as though everything was normal. I set the dinner table, cooked Cameron’s favorite meal—roasted chicken with rosemary potatoes—and smiled like nothing had happened. When he walked in, he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, completely unaware that I knew his dirty little secret.

We ate in silence for a while before I finally spoke. “You won’t believe what happened to me today,” I said, keeping my tone light and casual.

He looked up, curious. “Oh? What happened?”

“I ran into a strange woman at the supermarket,” I began, watching his expression carefully. “She knew about the scars on my legs… and our wedding.”

Cameron’s fork froze mid-air. “W-what? That’s strange.”

I nodded, leaning in slightly. “Yeah, isn’t it? And get this—she said you would be a super successful man, and we’d have a happy marriage.”

He choked on his food, coughing uncontrollably.

“Are you okay?” I asked sweetly, though I knew exactly what had caused his reaction.

When he finally stopped coughing, I dropped the façade. “I know about the actress, Cameron,” I said, my voice cold and steady. “You hired her to scare me into canceling the wedding.”

The color drained from his face. He stared at me, speechless, his mouth opening and closing as he fumbled for an explanation.

“I know everything,” I continued. “You couldn’t even call off the wedding yourself, could you? You had to hire someone to do it for you.”

His eyes were wide with panic, and his hands shook as he set his fork down. “Penelope, I—I didn’t know how to tell you.”

I laughed, but it was bitter and hollow. “Well, congratulations, Cameron. You don’t have to tell me anything now. I’m calling off the wedding.”

With that, I stood up, walked out of the apartment, and never looked back.

Cameron had shown me exactly who he was: a coward who couldn’t face the truth. And I was done with him.

Game over, Cameron. Game over.