Tom’s family never truly accepted me. His mom made it clear I wasn’t “good enough,” and his brother Jack always mocked me. Still, I tried—baking for every event, hoping to fit in. When Jack asked me for a birthday cake, I was surprised but put my heart into it.
At the venue, I froze. Instead of a birthday party, a massive banner read: “CONGRATULATIONS, JACK & EMILY!” It was an engagement party. Jack had lied. Tom’s mom smiled. “Well, Jack didn’t want to make a fuss. We figured if we told you, you might’ve said no.”
Jack arrived, grinning. “Two celebrations in one!” he laughed. I was furious. “You lied to me,” I said, shaking. He shrugged. “It’s just a cake. You should be flattered.”
I had enough. “I’m done,” I said, walking away. Later, Tom accused me of embarrassing his family. “No, they embarrassed themselves,” I told him. That conversation ended us.
A year later, I run my own bakery, surrounded by people who appreciate me. Meanwhile, Tom’s family remains as toxic as ever. And honestly? That’s the sweetest revenge.
