My MIL and Her Friends Devoured Our $1000 Wedding Cake the Evening Before Our Wedding, So I Decided to Teach Her a Lesson

I was heartbroken and furious when I discovered my mother-in-law Linda and her friends had devoured my $1000 wedding cake. I couldn’t believe they would intentionally ruin my special day, leaving only crumbs behind. But I was determined to teach them a lesson, and hence, my revenge plan began to take shape.

“No way I’m paying. It’s too expensive for something that tasted disgusting, JUST LIKE YOUR TASTE IN EVERYTHING,” Linda sneered, barely glancing at me.

I stood frozen in my living room doorway, grocery bags slipping from my hands.

I could feel the tears welling up as I took in the scene.

My beautiful wedding cake, the one I had saved for months to afford, was gone. Only crumbs and a half-eaten slice remained on the table while Linda and her friends lounged on the couch, looking pleased with themselves.

“Linda, how could you?” I choked out as I approached the empty box. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

“That cake was for my wedding, Linda! It cost a thousand dollars! How will I replace it so soon?” I asked angrily.

“Oh, please, Emily,” Linda rolled her eyes. “It was just a cake. And honestly, it wasn’t even that good!”

“But it was important to me!” I snapped, tears streaming down my face. “You had no right to touch it!”

“Get over it, Emily,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a cake, and it’s not like you have good taste in anything anyway.”

Linda and her friends exchanged amused glances before slowly getting up. “We’re leaving. But don’t expect any money from me,” she said smugly.

As they sauntered out, leaving a trail of crumbs and laughter behind them, I sank to the floor. My shoulders shook with silent sobs. The wedding was less than a day away, and now my beautiful cake was ruined.

Linda had never liked me because she wanted Alex to marry someone rich. From the moment we met, her disdain was evident. She constantly found reasons to belittle and undermine me, criticizing my choices, style, and personality at every opportunity.

But this… this was too much!

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

I couldn’t let this ruin everything. I had worked too hard and come too far to let Linda’s spiteful actions destroy my wedding. I wiped my tears and stood up.

First, I needed to call the bakery. Maybe, just maybe, they could make another cake in time. I grabbed my phone and dialed the number, praying they’d have good news.

But I was met with disappointment. No bakery was ready to take my order.

It was then that Sarah’s name popped into my head. I grabbed my phone and called her.

Sarah was not only my best friend and maid of honor but also an amazing baker. If anyone could help me, it was her.

“What? How dare she?” Sarah exclaimed as I told her everything. “Don’t worry, Emily, I’m coming over. We’ll fix this, okay?”

When Sarah walked into my kitchen that afternoon, she immediately gave me a hug. “We got this, Emily. Let’s make a cake even better than the original.”

We rolled up our sleeves and got to work. Sarah took charge, giving me instructions and keeping me focused. We mixed the batter, baked the layers, and whipped up the frosting. The kitchen filled with the comforting smells of vanilla and sugar, lifting my spirits.

“How are you holding up?” she asked as we started decorating the cake.

“I’m still upset, but I’m determined not to let Linda ruin this for me,” I replied, carefully smoothing the frosting. “Thank you so much for helping me.”

“Of course, Emily. That’s what friends are for,” Sarah said with a warm smile.

Despite the time crunch, we worked efficiently. We piped flowers, added delicate details, and made sure every inch of the cake was perfect.

As the night wore on, exhaustion set in, but we pushed through. Finally, as the first light of dawn crept through the windows, we stepped back to admire our work.

The cake was beautiful, filled with love and care. It wasn’t the same as the original, but it was even more special because Sarah and I had made it together.

“Emily, this cake is stunning,” Sarah said, wiping a smudge of frosting from her cheek. “Linda has no idea what she’s up against.”

I smiled, feeling a surge of confidence. “You’re right. I’m not done yet. I’m going to teach Linda a lesson she’ll never forget.”

And then came the moment we were waiting for.

At my wedding reception, the new cake Sarah and I had made was set up, and it looked stunning. Guests mingled, chatting happily, but I noticed Linda watching me with a disappointed look. She had expected a meltdown, not this.

Just before we cut the cake, I took a deep breath and stepped up to the microphone.

Alex stood beside me, and I felt a pang of sadness as I looked into his eyes. He loved his mother, and he had no idea what she had done to me, to us.

“Thank you all for being here today,” I began, my voice steady. “I have something to share before we celebrate with this beautiful cake…”

The room fell silent, all eyes on me. I signaled to the technician, who played the security footage I had hidden in my living room. The video showed Linda and her friends eating the original cake and making snide comments about me.

Gasps echoed around the room as everyone watched. Linda’s face turned red, and she looked around, desperate for an escape!

“I installed a camera because I knew Linda didn’t like me,” I explained calmly. “Sorry, Alex,” I added, turning to him. “I suspected she might do something to sabotage our wedding. I didn’t want to believe it, but I had to be prepared.”

The guests murmured in shock, glancing between Linda and the screen. Linda’s friends tried to slip away, but the attention was already on them.

“Despite this setback, we have a beautiful new cake thanks to my amazing friend Sarah,” I continued. “This day is about love and celebration, and I won’t let anything ruin it.”

But this wasn’t over. I had more planned, and Linda had no idea what was coming next.

Suddenly, I saw Alex making his way toward Linda, his face flushed with anger. He reached her just as she was trying to blend into the crowd.

“Mom, how could you?” Alex’s voice was loud enough to silence the nearby conversations. “You ate our wedding cake and tried to sabotage Emily’s big day? This isn’t a joke!”

Linda tried to laugh it off. “Oh, Alex, it was just a bit of fun. No harm done, right?”

“No harm done?” Alex’s voice rose. “You ruined a thousand-dollar cake and caused Emily so much stress. This isn’t funny. It’s cruel!”

The guests watched in stunned silence, their eyes shifting between Alex and Linda. I felt a pang of sympathy for Alex, having to confront his own mother like this. But it needed to be done.

Linda looked around, realizing she had no supporters in the room. She mumbled something that sounded like an apology, but no one was convinced.

Taking out my phone, I quickly texted a waiter.

With a smile, I watched the waiter read my message and nod in my direction.

Minutes later, the caterers wheeled out a beautifully decorated cake, and I saw Linda and her friends eyeing it suspiciously.

The caterers placed it on a separate table, away from the main dessert.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I announced, getting everyone’s attention once more. “We have a special treat for a select few guests.”

The caterers began serving slices of the Styrofoam cake to Linda and her friends. Each slice had a small, elegant note attached. As Linda picked up her piece, she read the note out loud: “For those with truly tasteless appetites.”

Her face turned beet red, and the room fell silent for a moment before erupting in laughter.

Linda’s friends tried to hide their embarrassment, but it was too late.

Even Linda’s husband, William, burst out laughing.

He tried to stifle it, but he couldn’t help himself. “Oh, Linda, you had this coming,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Emily, that was brilliant,” one guest said, shaking my hand.

“Serves her right,” another added, nodding in approval.

William approached me with a serious expression, though I could see a hint of a smile. “Emily, I want you to know that Linda will be held accountable for her actions. This will not go unpunished.”

“Thank you,” I replied, grateful for his support. “I appreciate it.”

As the guests continued to cheer and celebrate, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see Alex standing there, a proud but sad smile on his face.

“You handled that perfectly,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “It had to be done, but I’m sorry it came to this. I wish things were different. Mom shouldn’t have gone to such an extent.”

I hugged him back, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. “Thank you, Alex. For always supporting me.”

The rest of the evening was a blur of laughter, dancing, and joy. Despite everything, our wedding day had turned out better than I could have imagined, and I was glad that Linda’s antics couldn’t touch the happiness Alex and I shared.

What would you have done?

Boy Drops a Letter into an Abandoned House’s Mailbox, Receives a Mysterious Reply the Next Day — Story of the Day

Six-year-old Ethan had recently lost his mother, leaving a deep void in his heart. In his grief, he started writing letters to her, pouring out his feelings on paper. One day, while wandering the streets, he stumbled upon an old, rusty mailbox at an abandoned house. He decided to slip one of his letters inside, never expecting anyone to see it. To his astonishment, the very next day, he found a mysterious reply waiting for him.

Ethan, a six-year-old little boy with curly brown hair, felt a constant weight on his chest since his mother passed away. His father, Jacob, seemed lost in his world of grief.

Jacob used to be a lively and attentive father, but now he barely noticed Ethan, spending most of his time staring at old photos or working late to avoid the empty house.

“Mom, I miss you so much,” Ethan whispered to his toy car.

He often imagined his mother traveling with him in the little car.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Ethan missed her gentle voice, warm hugs, and reading bedtime stories with her every night. In his loneliness, he began writing letters to her.

“Dear Mom,

Today was another hard day without you. I miss you so much. Dad is really sad too. I don’t think he notices me much anymore. I wish you were here to hug me and tell me everything will be okay.

Love, Ethan”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He poured his heart into those letters and hoped she would hear him.

One day, while wandering around his neighborhood, Ethan stumbled upon an old, abandoned house. The paint was peeling, the windows were boarded up, and the garden was overgrown with weeds.

“Hey, Mom,” Ethan said to his toy car, “look at this old house. It’s kind of spooky but also cool, right?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He walked closer, curiosity driving him.

Ethan saw the rusty mailbox at the front gate. That day, he had brought one of his letters with him, tucked safely in his jeans pocket, intending to read it to his mom in a quiet spot. Ethan just slipped it inside the mailbox, thinking no one would ever see him.

“Mom, I’m leaving this letter here,” he whispered. “It will be our secret.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He took a step back and looked at the house again.

“Do you think anyone lives here?” he asked his car, imagining his mother’s voice answering. “Probably not, but it’s a good place for my letter.”

Ethan stood there for a moment longer, feeling a bit silly but also comforted by the act.

“Okay, let’s go home now,” he said to the car. “Maybe we’ll come back tomorrow.”

As he walked home, his mind wandered to thoughts of his mother, picturing her reading his letter and smiling.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I hope you like my letters, Mom,” he whispered, clutching the toy car even tighter. “I’ll keep writing them, I promise.”

When he reached his house, his dad was still sitting at the table in the living room. Ethan paused at the doorway, watching his father for a moment.

“Dad,” he said quietly, but Jacob didn’t respond. Sighing, Ethan headed to his room, pulling out another piece of paper to write another letter to his mom.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Dear Mom,” he began, “I found a new place to leave my letters for you. It’s an old, abandoned house, and it feels like a special spot just for us…”

As he wrote, he felt the sadness lifting just a little, finding solace in the connection created, even if it was only in his imagination.

“Goodnight, Mom,” he whispered to the toy car on his bedside table before drifting off to sleep.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

The next day, Ethan felt a strange urge to visit the abandoned house again. He wanted to leave his new letter in that mailbox.

As he approached the gate, he noticed something different. The mailbox was slightly open. Ethan’s heart raced as he looked around.

Inside, he found a folded piece of paper. It was a letter addressed to … him. He unfolded it and began to read.

“Dear Ethan,” it started. “Thank you for sharing your beautiful words. Your letters have touched my heart. Please don’t stop writing. With love, Clara.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Ethan was so absorbed in the letter that he didn’t hear the front door of the house creak open. A woman stepped out quietly.

She was older, with silver hair and kind, but sad eyes. She watched Ethan read her letter, a gentle smile forming on her face.

Suddenly, Ethan felt a presence and looked up, startled. He nearly dropped the letter.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, taking a step back. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

The woman held up her hand in a calming gesture. “It’s alright, dear,” she said softly. “I’m Clara. I’ve been reading your letter.”

Ethan blinked in surprise. “You…you read them?”

Clara nodded. “Yes, and they’ve brought me a lot of comfort. Your letter reminded me of my own son. I lost my family years ago.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I miss my mom so much,” Ethan said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Clara stepped closer, her eyes filled with empathy.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“I know, Ethan. Grief is a heavy burden to carry. But sharing your feelings, even through letters, can help lighten that load.”

A loud, angry voice interrupted them just then, “Clara!”

A tall, stern-looking man marched towards them. “It’s time you left, Clara,” Mr. Harrow said harshly. “You’ve had enough time to grieve. This house belonged to my brother, and now it’s mine.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Clara stood her ground, her eyes blazing. “There was no will, Mr. Harrow. My husband died young, along with our son. Your so-called will is a forgery!”

Mr. Harrow sneered, “You have no choice. I’m taking the house. You’ve overstayed your welcome.”

As Ethan stepped forward, trying to understand the situation, Mr. Harrow finally noticed him. “And who is this? Why are kids wandering around my property?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Ethan, clutching his letter, stammered, “I…I was just leaving a letter for my mom…”

Mr. Harrow’s eyes narrowed, “Letter? What letter?”

He snatched the letter from Ethan’s hands and started tearing it up. “You’re littering this place with your trash!”

Ethan’s heart broke as he saw pieces of his letters flutter to the grass. He watched helplessly as Mr. Harrow destroyed his heartfelt messages.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Then Clara stepped forward and said, “How could you do that? He’s just a child, grieving his mother.”

But Ethan already run away, his mind racing.

“Why was Mr. Harrow so mean? And why did he want to remove Clara from her house? She seems so nice,” he whispered to his toy car as he ran. “Mom, what should I do?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

He knew he had to do something, but he wasn’t sure what. All he knew was that he couldn’t let Mr. Harrow win. Clara needed help, and maybe, just maybe, his father could provide it.

Breathless, Ethan clutched his toy car tighter, “I won’t let him hurt Clara, Mom. I promise I’ll help her.”

***

Distraught, Ethan burst through the front door, tears streaming down his face.

“Dad! Dad, I need your help!” he shouted, rushing into the kitchen where Jacob was sitting.

Jacob looked up, startled, “Ethan, what’s wrong?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“It’s Mr. Harrow! He wants to kick Clara out of her house! He tore up my letters, Dad. We have to help her!” Ethan pleaded.

Jacob sighed and rubbed his temples, clearly confused.

“Ethan, calm down. I don’t understand. Who is Mr. Harrow? Who is Clara? And what letters are you talking about?”

Ethan continued to cry out, his words slurred, “Clara.. abandoned … letters .. for Mom! Mr. Harrow! Tore them up!”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Jacob didn’t want to deal with the situation and tried to calm Ethan down.

“Ethan, stop shouting. This isn’t our problem. You shouldn’t be getting involved in things that don’t concern you.”

Ethan was still in a panic and didn’t calm down. He continued to cry and plead with his father.

Jacob was frustrated and did not fully understand the situation. He took the torn pieces of the letters from Ethan’s hands. “That’s enough, Ethan. You need to go to your room and think about your behavior.”

Ethan felt utterly helpless, and ran out of the house, slamming the door behind him. His heart pounded as he ran towards the police station, determined to find someone who would listen and help Clara.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

When Ethan arrived at the station, which was on the next street, he breathlessly explained everything to the officer at the desk, hoping they would take action.

“Officer, please, you have to help! Mr. Harrow is trying to kick Clara out of her house! He tore up my letters, and he’s being so mean!” Ethan exclaimed, tears streaming down his face.

The officer listened patiently, nodding as Ethan spoke.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Calm down, son,” he said gently. “I understand you’re upset, but Mr. Harrow has already informed us about this. He’s claiming the house is rightfully his.”

Ethan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “But Clara lives there! It’s her home!”

The officer sighed and continued, “The problem is, Clara doesn’t have any documents to prove ownership of the house. She mentioned she lost them. Without those papers, there’s not much we can do.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Ethan felt a lump in his throat, “But that’s not fair! She’s lived there for so long! You have to help her!”

The officer shook his head sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I know this is hard for you to understand, but without those documents, Mr. Harrow has the legal right to the property. It’s best if you go home now. I’ll walk you back.”

Feeling defeated, Ethan nodded slowly.

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice trembling. The officer took Ethan’s hand and guided him out of the station.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

***

When they arrived at his house, a worried Jacob had just returned home.

“Ethan, where have you been?” he demanded. “I’ve been searching for you at all the neighbors’ houses.”

Ethan looked down, “I went to the police, Dad. I thought they could help.”

Jacob sighed deeply and pulled Ethan into a hug, “I’m not mad, Ethan. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Jacob glanced at the letters on the kitchen table, the ones he had found when Ethan ran away. He had read a few of them and realized how much empathy and love Ethan had in his heart and how little attention he had been giving to his son’s feelings and struggles.

After a long moment of silence, Jacob made a decision.

“Alright, Ethan. Let’s go talk to Clara. She can stay with us until we figure this out.”

Ethan’s eyes lit up with hope. “Really, Dad?”

Jacob nodded, a small smile on his face, “Yes, really. Let’s go help her.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Father and son walked back to Clara’s house together, ready to offer her the shelter and support she needed.

Little did they know, Mr. Harrow, hidden in the shadows, was watching them with narrowed eyes, already plotting his next move to reclaim the property. He had no intention of backing down.

***

Clara, Jacob, and Ethan began living together. The three of them quickly formed a close bond.

Every morning, Clara prepared breakfast while humming a cheerful tune. Her delicious cooking and the flowers she planted in the garden brought life back into the house.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Ethan, come help me plant these flowers,” Clara called out one sunny afternoon.

Ethan ran over, excited, “What kind are they, Clara?”

“These are marigolds. They’ll add a beautiful splash of color to the garden,” she replied, handing him a small shovel.

As they worked together, Ethan chatted away, pretending to talk to his toy car. “Mom, look at these flowers! Aren’t they pretty?” he whispered, imagining his mother was there with him.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Jacob watched from the kitchen window, a small smile on his face. Clara’s presence had a calming effect on him. He found himself smiling more and even started joining Ethan and Clara for activities.

“Jacob, dinner’s ready!” Clara called out one evening.

Jacob came to the table, the aroma of Clara’s home-cooked meal filling the room. “Smells wonderful, Clara. Thank you.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Ethan chimed in, “Yeah, Clara, you’re the best cook ever!”

Clara laughed, a warm, hearty sound, “Thank you, Ethan. I love cooking for you both.”

After dinner, Clara and Ethan settled on the couch with a book of fairy tales.

“Once upon a time,” Clara began, and Ethan snuggled closer, listening intently. These moments became a cherished part of their daily routine. Ethan’s sadness began to lift, bit by bit, replaced by the warmth of Clara’s love and stories.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

A few months passed quickly. The legal situation with Clara’s house was resolved in her favor. The ownership documents were found in the registry, proving her rightful claim to the house. Mr. Harrow’s will was confirmed to be a forgery, and he received only a verbal warning to stay away from Clara, as she chose not to press charges against him.

Jacob and Ethan went with Clara to her house, carrying a mix of hope and sadness.

“I don’t want you to go, Clara,” Ethan said, his voice trembling.

Jacob placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “We can still visit, Ethan.”

When they arrived, they were shocked to see the destruction. Mr. Harrow had demolished half of it with the help of hired workers and a crane.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Clara’s eyes filled with tears. “How could he do this?”

Ethan looked up at his father, his eyes pleading, “Dad, we have to do something.”

Jacob’s face hardened,. “We will, Ethan. I promise.” He turned to Clara. “I’m going to personally sue Mr. Harrow for this. He won’t get away with it.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Clara nodded, wiping her tears. “Thank you, Jacob.”

Jacob looked at Ethan, then back at Clara.

“You’ll stay with us. We’ll all work together to fix up your home. You’ve become a dear person to both of us, Clara.”

Then Ethan gave Clara his toy car. “You’re part of our family now,” he said, offering it as a sign of trust and acceptance. It was the most precious thing he had, symbolizing how much she meant to him and how she had become an important part of their lives.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Clara’s eyes softened as she hugged Ethan back. “Thank you, Ethan. Thank you, Jacob. You’ve both given me a second chance at happiness.”

Together, they headed back home, ready to face the challenges ahead. The bond they had formed was strong, and they knew that together, they could overcome anything.

As they walked, Ethan held his toy car close and whispered, “Mom, Clara is staying with us. She makes me happy, and I think you would like her too.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Tell us what you think about this story, and share it with your friends. It might inspire them and brighten their day.

If you enjoyed this story, read this one: Chloe found her foster daughter, Alicia, covered in oil paint at home. She knew Alicia had been at Orin’s studio. Orin, their neighbor, was an artist in his fifties, and Chloe was in love with him. To stop Alicia from making a big mistake, Chloe was ready to reveal an old family secret. Read the full story here.

This piece is inspired by stories from the everyday lives of our readers and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

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