Ava unexpectedly falls for the man her parents arranged for her to marry. But when unsettling rumors about him surface days before their wedding, she devises a test to uncover his true intentions.
Ava caught her breath as she gazed at Walter, the man her parents had arranged for her to meet. He rose from his seat, impeccably dressed in a sleek suit that showcased his athletic build, his blue eyes sparkling under the elegant lighting.
Ava’s heart fluttered as he smiled and helped her to her seat.
“Ava, meet Walter, my son,” his mother said.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“What do you think?” whispered Ava’s mother, Hilda, noticing her daughter’s reddened cheeks.
The families sat at a grand dining table in a restaurant, the air filled with apprehension and anticipation. Ava, initially resistant to this arranged meeting, found herself unexpectedly drawn to Walter. His gentlemanly demeanor throughout the dinner and subsequent meetings only deepened her admiration for him.
So a few weeks later, when he went down on one knee and proposed, she didn’t think twice before saying yes.
“I’ll marry you!” she exclaimed as Walter slid a diamond ring onto her finger.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The wedding was set, and with only a few weeks to go, Ava and her friend Hillary went to a boutique to pick a wedding dress for Ava’s special day.
They had just gotten there and were waiting to be attended to when they heard two women whispering in the background.
At first, Ava tried not to pay attention, but with how loud they were, it was impossible not to hear a few words, especially when she heard Walter’s name.
“You mean Walter, the blue-eyed playboy, is getting married?” one woman whispered incredulously.
“Apparently, his parents found him a millionaire’s daughter,” another woman added.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Ava desperately wanted to continue listening but was interrupted when one of the attendants approached her since it was her turn.
“You heard those people talking in the lobby, didn’t you?” Hillary asked as they followed the attendant.
“Do you know how many Walters there are in this state?” Ava replied, dismissing the rumors. She was convinced her Walter was different.
An hour later, Ava drove to Walter’s mansion. The recent rain had left the roads wet, and as she approached his mansion, she noticed a group of homeless people huddled by the roadside, trying to keep dry.
\Ava slowed her car to avoid splashing water on them and rolled down her window to offer them some money, only to be taken aback after hearing their conversation.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“That rich guy in the red car splashed water on us! All that money has gone to his head! And that money isn’t his, I bet! It’s his parents’!” grumbled a bearded man.
“With his handsome looks, he thinks he can do anything,” a woman added bitterly.
Shocked and confused, Ava rolled up her window and drove into Walter’s estate, wondering if they were discussing him. She had seen his compassionate side, like his charity work, but she now doubted if it was just for show.
\As she entered his house using the spare key she always had, she was stunned to hear him yelling on the phone.
“Get them out of here! I want all of them gone!” he bellowed, his face contorted with anger.
His tone suddenly softened when he turned around and spotted her.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I don’t want to see those beggars suffer in this rain. Find them a place, now!” he commanded, hanging up.
“Ava!” He smiled and approached her. “I saw some homeless people in the rain. It broke my heart, so I was arranging shelter for them,” he explained. Ava didn’t know what to say and nodded. Throughout the evening, she acted like everything was fine, but it wasn’t.
Their wedding was in a week, after which Walter was to be appointed as the director of one of her father’s charity organizations.
As Ava reached home, she discussed everything with Hillary and devised a plan to test Walter’s true character.
“Why not hire a private investigator?” Hillary suggested. “Isn’t that easier than hiring an actor? What if it doesn’t work?”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“It will. People let down their guard easily around strangers, and this particular actor I hired is pretty good,” Ava explained.
The next day, they met at Walter’s favorite café, concealing their faces under big hats.
“Aren’t you worried Walter might get angry if he finds out?” Hillary asked cautiously.
“He won’t know if all goes well,” Ava reassured her, waiting for Walter’s arrival. She’d already texted him and set her plan in motion. Babe, can you get me a coffee from your favorite place? I’ll be waiting at your office, she’d written.Later, she would text him that she couldn’t make it due to some work.
As Walter entered the café, Ava watched him closely. Dressed in a white sweater and black pants, Walter attracted admiring glances as he ordered. Ava’s heart swelled with pride, but she was anxious about the actor she’d hired to test him.
“I hope everything goes well,” she murmured to Hillary.
As Walter waited, a disheveled man, the actor Ava had hired, approached the counter. Walter was disgusted and stepped aside, allowing the man to order first.
“He’s so nice,” Ava whispered, unaware of Walter’s true intentions.
“Yeah, surprising,” Hillary said despite her doubts about Walter’s character.
Walter paid for the man’s bread and coffee, masking his frustration, all because he wanted the smelly, poor man to leave as soon as possible.
The situation escalated when the man accidentally spilled coffee on Walter’s sweater. Walter’s anger flared, but he caught a glimpse of someone familiar in the space and restrained himself.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I’m s-sorry, sir,” the man stammered, tears streaming down his face.
Walter, boiling inside, forced a smile. “Ah, no worries! It’s just clothes, nothing more. You can get more food at the counter; I’ll pay,” he offered, leading the man to the counter while vigorously typing on his phone, trying to send a quick message to his friend.
Ava watched from a distance and was proud of Walter’s kindness. “He’s the man I thought he was,” she said to Hillary, who wasn’t entirely convinced.
Soon, Walter stepped outside, walking side by side with the beggar, who walked beside him with a smile. They had just rounded a corner when he grabbed the man’s shirt and whispered harshly in his ears. “Say a word of this to Ava, and you’ll regret it,” he warned, tossing his hot coffee at the man before walking away.
Meanwhile, Ava dropped him the text, thinking she was a fool to doubt him. “See, I told you he’s a nice guy,” she told Hillary.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Walter scowled as he read her message and drove home. He knew Ava suspected something. In desperation, he called Brandon, his trusted friend, for advice.
Meanwhile, Joe, the actor hired by Ava to test Walter, brushed off his coffee-soaked clothes. Feeling the soreness on his neck from Walter’s grip, he skipped contacting his client and headed home.
At Walter’s house, the atmosphere was tense. “She knows!” Walter yelled.
“Calm down. What does she know exactly?” Brandon inquired, pouring wine for his friend.
Walter explained Ava’s test and his fear of her suspicions.
“Spend more money on those charity galas she likes. There’s barely a week to the wedding, and all you have to do is persevere until then,” Brandon instructed him, and Walter listened with rapt attention.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
That night, after Ava got home, she spent hours talking to Walter on the phone, convinced that he was the only person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.
“I love you, too,” she whispered into the phone after saying her goodbyes before hanging up.
Two days before the wedding, Ava went alone to pick up her dress. Unexpectedly, a woman blocked her path. “You’re Ava, right? The one marrying Walter?” the woman asked bluntly.
“Yes, I am. I love him,” Ava replied, assuming the woman was one of Walter’s exes.
“Don’t marry him. He’s not who you think he is,” the woman warned gravely before leaving.
Ava went after her, but the woman got into her car and drove away.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Puzzled and concerned, Ava could only wonder about the woman’s motives as she picked up her wedding dress. She decided to call Joe, the actor she had hired to test Walter, for any insights.
She had paid him for his work but hadn’t heard from him ever since his act at the cafe. She didn’t think much about it then because she was convinced Walter was really a kind and caring man. Joe didn’t answer her first calls, and when he finally did, he urgently warned her to stay away from Walter before abruptly hanging up.
Confused and alarmed, Ava pondered Joe’s reaction and decided to test Walter herself, this time without any intermediaries. She planned to disguise herself as a homeless person and approach Walter to see his true character.
Dressed in old, smelly clothes and a dirty scarf, Ava waited for Walter at a fancy restaurant where they were supposed to meet. She approached him in the parking lot, asking for help in her beggar disguise.
Remembering Brandon’s advice to maintain a good public image, Walter reluctantly gave her some money and walked away.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Seeing his ‘kindness,’ Ava couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for not trusting him. Entering the restaurant, she instantly headed straight towards him, trying to grab his arm as she called his name.
“Wal—” she began, but the words had barely left her mouth when she felt a brutal, stinging force against her face.
Walter slapped her.
“I-I’m a woman,” Ava stuttered in shock, not knowing what else to say as she watched Walter glare at her with hostile and unfamiliar eyes.
“You stinking witch! The only reason I didn’t slap you before was that we were in public. How dare you follow me!” Walter yelled. “You poverty-stricken set of beggars, I hate your kind the most!”
Walter had been holding in his emotions for a while, and seeing the utterly empty restaurant felt like a grand opportunity to take out his emotions on the beggar who DARED to almost touch him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
“I’ve been going around with a kind look just because I’m trying to get a woman to marry me, and you think you can take advantage of that? Get out, or I’ll slap you again!” Walter continued yelling, and Ava could tell that he meant every word.
Touching her face, she felt it burn as her eyes stung from both the pain and the realization that Walter was nothing like the man she fell in love with.
As he demanded security to remove her, Ava removed her disguise, revealing her true identity.
“It’s me, Ava,” she finally said, her heart breaking.
His face turned pale. “A-Ava? How could you deceive me like this? Was this all a trap, a test? I thought you loved me. I thought you trusted me,” he stammered, trying to turn things around.
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But Ava just shook her head and smirked.
“The wedding is off, loser!” she declared before leaving.
Months later, Ava’s parents arranged another match for her. She met Brandon, a seemingly calm and gentlemanly figure.
“My name is Brandon. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about me!” He greeted her with a charming smile.
I guess looks can be highly deceiving, Ava thought. Through the private investigator Ava had hired, she knew this man was more deadly than Walter. She smiled at him, deciding to teach him a lesson he’d never forget.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
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If you enjoyed reading this story, you might like this one about a maid who captured a millionaire’s heart days before his wedding.
My BIL Asked Me to Bake a Cake for His Birthday Party — When I Saw the Decorations, I Was Stunned by His Lies
For years, Jacqueline’s in-laws dismissed her as “not good enough.” Then, out of the blue, her brother-in-law asked her to bake a cake for his birthday. Hoping for acceptance, she arrived at the party, only to be mortified by the decorations and the true reason for the celebration.
My husband Tom’s family never truly accepted me. From the moment we got engaged, I was an outsider. Every family gathering was a battlefield, and I was always the walking wounded.
I remember the first time my mother-in-law, Alice, looked me up and down with that trademark condescending smile and said it outright: “You’re sweet, dear, but Tom… he’s always been ambitious. You’re just so… simple.”
I heard it loud and clear. I WASN’T GOOD ENOUGH.
Portrait of a distressed woman | Source: Midjourney
Jack, Tom’s brother, was worse. At every family gathering, his favorite sport was undermining my confidence.
“Hey, Jacqueline,” he’d drawl, “I didn’t realize ‘professional cake decorator’ was such a demanding career. Must be exhausting, all that frosting and free time!”
When I’d try to defend myself, to show some spark of the intelligence and strength I knew I possessed, Jack would lean back, his hands raised in mock surrender. “It’s just a joke, lighten up!”
But we both knew it wasn’t a joke. It was a calculated attack, a smile wrapped around a blade, designed to keep me off-balance and uncertain.
A man staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
Whenever I brought up such instances to Tom, his response was always the same predictable, placating, almost desperate attempt to smooth over the rough edges.
“They don’t mean it, Jackie,” he’d say. “They’re just set in their ways.”
But his words rang hollow. The cold stares, the sharp whispers, the subtle exclusions… they spoke volumes that his gentle reassurances could never silence.
I was an outsider. A perpetual guest in a family that had already decided I didn’t belong.
The ache of constant rejection had turned me into a dessert-making machine, each carefully crafted treat a desperate plea for acceptance.
An anxious woman | Source: Midjourney
Baking was my silent love letter, my most vulnerable communication in a family that seemed determined to keep me at arm’s length.
Every holiday became a performance of perfection. On Thanksgiving, I’d arrive early, my hands trembling slightly as I offered to help Alice in the kitchen.
But her dismissive response was a familiar wound. “I’ve got it, Jacqueline. Why don’t you set the table instead?”
The words were polite, but the message was clear: I didn’t belong. Not yet.
An older lady smiling | Source: Midjourney
Christmas was no different. Handmade gifts wrapped with hope and precision, each stitch and fold a testament to my desire to be seen and loved. But they were always met with forced smiles, quick glances, and moments later… forgotten.
Baking became my language of love, my desperate attempt to translate my worth into layers of cake, swirls of frosting, and perfectly piped decorations.
I believed (foolishly, perhaps) that if I could just create something extraordinary enough, they would finally see me. See my heart. And my devotion to this family.
But love, I was learning, isn’t measured in calories or confectioner’s sugar.
A smiling woman baking a cake | Source: Midjourney
So when Jack’s text arrived one night, unexpected and unusually cordial, my heart skipped a beat.
“Hey, Jacqueline, could you make a cake for my birthday this weekend? Nothing fancy, just plain. Thanks.”
Plain? The word echoed in my mind. Jack, who always critiqued and constantly found something lacking, wanted something plain? A lifetime of family dynamics screamed a warning, but a tiny, hopeful part of me wondered: Was this a peace offering? An olive branch?
I couldn’t say no. I was the family baker, after all. The one who existed in their world through carefully crafted desserts and silent endurance.
A cheerful woman holding a cellphone | Source: Midjourney
I poured every ounce of my pain, hope, and desperation into that cake. Three tiers of soft blue and silver buttercream, adorned with hand-painted fondant flowers so delicate they seemed to breathe.
It was elegant and understated. A masterpiece that represented everything I’d ever tried to be for this family. Perfect. Unimpeachable. Invisible.
Saturday arrived, and it was time to deliver the cake to the address Jack had texted me. But the moment I stepped into the event space, my heart CRACKED.
A stunned woman | Source: Midjourney
“Bon Voyage!” signs glittered in gold and white. My hands trembled, the cake suddenly heavy with more than just buttercream and sugar.
Photos lined the walls… of Tom and another woman, captured in moments that sliced through my heart like the sharpest knife. A beach scene. Laughter. Cherry blossoms. Her head on his shoulder. The intimacy was undeniable. She was his… mistress.
This wasn’t a birthday party. This was my… funeral.
A couple on the beach | Source: Unsplash
Jack approached with a predator’s grace, that familiar smug grin spreading across his face like a disease. “Nice cake,” he drawled, eyes glinting with a cruelty that went beyond simple malice. “Really fits the theme, don’t you think?”
My hands gripped the cake board so tightly I could feel my knuckles turning white. Rage, betrayal, and a devastating sense of humiliation battled inside me. I wanted to scream. To throw the cake. To shatter something — anything — to match the destruction happening inside my heart.
“What is this?” I gasped.
“Tom’s going-away party!” Jack said. “Didn’t he tell you? That he was going to… leave you?!”
An utterly stunned woman | Source: Midjourney
Tom approached, hands shoved deep in his pockets. The woman from the photos stood behind him, her hand possessively on his arm. A territorial marking I was meant to see.
“Jacqueline…” He sighed, as if I were an inconvenience. A problem to be managed.
“What’s going on?” I mustered every ounce of my strength to spit out the words.
“It’s not working between us,” he said, refusing to meet my eyes. “We’ve grown apart. I’m moving. With her. To Europe. The divorce papers will be ready soon.”
Divorce papers. Those clinical, cold words that would erase our years together.
Divorce papers on a table | Source: Pexels
I looked around the room. Alice. Jack. The rest of the family. Each face a mirror of smug satisfaction and calculated avoidance. They’d known. All of them. This wasn’t just Tom’s betrayal. It was a family conspiracy.
“You asked me to bake this cake to celebrate your brother’s affair?” I asked.
Jack’s final words landed like a punch. “You’re good at it. Why not?”
The cake in my hands suddenly felt like a doomed offering… something beautiful, carefully crafted, created with love, about to be destroyed.
And I was the only one who didn’t see it coming.
A woman holding a birthday cake | Source: Midjourney
For a moment, the walls threatened to crush me. Panic clawed at my throat. I wanted to scream. Cry. And confront everyone. But then something deep inside me crystallized.
If they wanted a performance, I would give them a masterpiece.
“You’re right, Jack,” I said, smiling. “The cake does fit the theme perfectly.”
Silence descended. Every eye followed me as I carried the cake to the center table.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I began, “this cake is a masterpiece. Crafted with patience, care, and love… qualities I brought to this family from the start.” My gaze locked with Tom’s, fury burning in my eyes. “It’s beautiful on the outside, but as with all things, the real test is beneath the surface.”
A man in a room | Source: Midjourney
I cut a slice and offered the first piece to Tom. “For you,” I said. “A reminder that sweetness doesn’t just happen. It takes effort, something you clearly forgot.”
The mistress received her slice with a forced smile that faltered under my gaze. “And for you,” I murmured, my voice dripping with a honey-coated venom, “a taste of what it takes to maintain what you’ve stolen.”
Jack received the final slice. “Thanks for inviting me to this unforgettable event. But I’ve had my share of people who only see me when it suits them.”
The knife clattered against the plate. I turned, walked away, and didn’t look back.
A heartbroken woman staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
Days passed. Silence filled the small rented apartment I’d moved into. When my best friend Emma’s call came a few days later, it brought a different kind of storm.
“Have you seen what’s happening?” she asked, a sharp edge of triumph cutting through her words.
“What do you mean?”
“Tom’s mistress posted everything online. And I mean… EVERYTHING!” Emma laughed. “Her social media’s been a goldmine of disaster.”
I laughed as she shared screenshots of the post. “Bon Voyage, my love! Can’t wait to start this new chapter together 🥂😘” the mistress had written, alongside glamorous party photos of Tom and her kissing at the party.
A delighted woman seeing her phone | Source: Midjourney
What she didn’t know was that one of Tom’s colleagues followed her account. Those innocent, boastful posts traveled fast, landing directly in the inbox of Tom’s boss, who was decidedly not impressed.
Turned out, Tom had fabricated an elaborate lie about relocating for “family reasons,” conveniently omitting his affair and his plans to abandon his current professional responsibilities. His employer’s response was swift and brutal: they rescinded the overseas job offer and terminated his employment.
But the universe wasn’t done serving its cold plate of justice.
An upset man holding his head | Source: Pixabay
When Tom’s girlfriend discovered the cushy international job had evaporated, she dropped him faster than a bad habit. Just like that, his carefully constructed fantasy crumbled.
No relocation. No romance. No job.
Jack, too, discovered that actions have consequences. The social circle that had once welcomed him now turned its back. Whispers became silence, and invitations dried up like autumn leaves.
And in the silence of my small rented apartment, I felt something unexpected: not anger, not even satisfaction. Just a strange, calm acceptance that sometimes, the universe has its own way of balancing the scales.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
And guess what? Tom’s text arrived without warning a week later.
“I made a mistake,” he wrote. Those four words, so small, yet attempting to collapse an entire landscape of betrayal into a moment of convenient remorse.
I stared at the screen, feeling the familiar rage rising. Not the explosive anger from the party, but a deep, calm fury. The kind that burns slow and steady, like embers that never quite go out.
My eyes drifted to the kitchen counter. The cake stand sat empty, a silent witness to my agony. Slowly and deliberately, I raised my phone and snapped a picture of it.
An empty cake stand in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
My response to Tom was simple:
“All out of second chances!”
My heart felt lighter than it had in days as I hit send.
This wasn’t my failure. The rejection and betrayal… none of it was my fault. My worth wasn’t determined by their acceptance or rejection. I was more than their whispers, more than the cake I baked, and more than the role they tried to confine me to.
Life was waiting. And I was ready to move forward… unburdened and unbroken.
A cheerful woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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