
Dahlia pours her heart into planning her brother’s wedding. From designing the invitation to booking vendors to even baking the perfect cake. But on the big day, she discovers a brutal betrayal: she’s not invited. As secrets unravel and loyalties are tested, Dahlia must decide if some betrayals deserve forgiveness… or just a slice of revenge.
I’ve never been the kind of person to hold a grudge.
But I can say, without hesitation, that I will never forgive Claire for what she did to me.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
When my brother, Liam, got engaged, I was happy for him. Sure, Claire wasn’t my favorite person in the world. She had an edge to her, a way of making every conversation feel like a subtle competition.
But she seemed to love my brother.
And Liam? He was smitten.

A man holding a ring box | Source: Midjourney
So, when Claire begged me to help plan the wedding, I agreed. Not for her. But for Liam.
I helped design the invitations. I booked vendors. I coordinated the venue. And I even paid for catering and the wedding cake.
I spent weeks pouring my heart into their wedding. And I had no idea what Claire was planning behind my back.

A woman talking on the phone | Source: Midjourney
I tapped my pen against the edge of my desk, staring down at the sketches in front of me. Flour-dusted pages filled with delicate designs, tiers of smooth fondant, cascading sugar flowers, and intricate piping details.
The wedding cake had to be perfect.
I flipped through ideas, frowning.
Classic vanilla? Too boring.
Red velvet? Claire hated it.

A display of wedding cakes | Source: Midjourney
My pencil hovered over the page before I scribbled down the only choice that felt right.
Chocolate-peanut butter cake.
My lip twitched into a small smile. It was Liam’s favorite.
I could still picture us as kids, sitting on the kitchen floor, legs crossed as we licked chocolate frosting off the beaters. Our mom would make chocolate-peanut butter cupcakes every time Liam had a big event.

Cupcakes on a kitchen counter | Source: Midjourney
Birthdays, soccer games, even the time he got a participation trophy in third grade. He used to sneak into the kitchen and swipe extra spoonfuls of peanut butter frosting straight from the bowl.
“Best flavor in the world,” he’d say, licking it off his fingers.

A boy holding a cupcake | Source: Midjourney
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. Claire would probably want something fancy and pretentious. Some overpriced, trendy cake with sugared roses or some fancy French technique she found online.
But if I was pouring my heart into this cake, I wanted Liam to taste something familiar.
Something that felt like home.

A fancy wedding cake | Source: Midjourney
I pressed my pen into the paper, writing the final flavor choice in ink.
And then I exhaled, stretching my fingers. My fingers still ached from this morning’s baking.
A reminder of how far I’d come. A reminder of how much it had cost me.

A woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
My bakery was my dream. My entire world. And for a while, I thought my marriage had been, too.
I swallowed hard, my eyes flicking to the stack of unopened letters on the corner of my desk. Useless apologies from my ex-husband, the divorce lawyer’s final bills, and, of course, inventory of all my stock.
I had loved my husband. Deeply. And for a while, I thought he had loved me, too.

The exterior of a bakery | Source: Midjourney
But in the end, he had only loved what I built. The successful business. The prestige of being married to a pastry chef whose cakes and pastries were featured in magazines.
Not me.
And the day I finally realized that? It broke me. And I felt I had no choice but to leave him. Either that or be his private bank.
I squeezed my eyes shut, inhaling deeply.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Not now, Dahlia. This is about Liam.
I squared my shoulders and picked up my pen again.
Focus.
Because no matter what, Liam deserved a perfect wedding cake. Even if I didn’t believe in happy endings anymore.

A woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
The morning of the wedding, I stood in the venue’s kitchen, carefully piping the final details onto the cake.
Guests were arriving, laughter spilling in from the grand hall. My heart swelled, knowing that I had helped bring this entire event together.
Then, my mom stormed in, her face like thunder.
“Sweetheart…” she hesitated, her hands gripping the kitchen counter. “You’re not on the guest list.”

An upset woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
I let out a small laugh.
“What? That’s ridiculous. I’m literally holding their wedding cake.”
Mom’s face remained serious.
“Claire’s mom is checking the guest list. She says you’re not invited. And she won’t let you in.”

An upset woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
My stomach dropped.
I set the piping bag down, my hands suddenly unsteady.
“Did she say why? What do you mean?”
Mom clenched her jaw.
“She refuses to explain.”

A person holding a piping bag | Source: Midjourney
A ringing noise filled my ears. I had spent months helping Claire plan this wedding. Months. And she didn’t even have the decency to tell me herself?
Mom was seething. Without another word, she stormed out to find Liam.
As for me?
I wiped my hands clean, pulled off my apron, and walked out of the side exit.
Broken.

The rear view of a woman | Source: Midjourney
Mom caught Liam just before the ceremony. He was adjusting his tie, smiling, completely unaware of what was happening.
“Liam,” she snapped. “Do you know that Claire didn’t invite your sister?”
Liam froze. His smile vanished.

An upset woman standing in a wedding venue | Source: Midjourney
“Wait. What? Why?”
“She won’t say. But she’s making sure Dahlia isn’t allowed inside. How can you allow that? She’s your sister!”
Liam’s face darkened. Without hesitation, he turned on his heel and marched straight to Claire.

A side-view of a groom | Source: Midjourney
Claire stood with her bridesmaids, basking in their compliments and practically glowing in her lace-covered gown.
She barely even looked up when Liam approached.
“Claire,” Liam said, his voice hard. “Did you seriously not invite my sister?”

A smiling bride | Source: Midjourney
Claire sighed, rolling her eyes.
“Ugh, babe. Not now,” she said. “Can we not do this on our wedding day?”
Liam didn’t move at all.
“Answer me.”
She huffed, clearly annoyed.
“Look, she helped us. So what? That was her gift to us. And honestly, let’s face it, it’s her job, too.”

A pensive groom | Source: Midjourney
Liam stared at her in disbelief.
“She paid for the food, Claire. She spent days baking the cake! And you just… what? Pretended she didn’t exist?”
Claire let out a dramatic sigh.
“Fine. You wanna know the reason? I didn’t want divorced people at our wedding. It’s bad energy, especially for the bride! I don’t want that kind of luck in our marriage! I didn’t invite a lot of my friends and cousins.”

A close up of a bride | Source: Midjourney
Liam’s jaw clenched.
“So you excluded my sister because she got a divorce?”
Claire shrugged.
“I mean… come on. It’s not my fault she couldn’t make it work. Why bring that kind of vibe to our day? And don’t be mad at me for just trying to stay happy? I’m superstitious, Liam! How do you not know this!?”
Liam fisted his hands at his sides, his entire body rigid with anger.

An upset groom | Source: Midjourney
“Marriages don’t fail because of ‘bad vibes,’ Claire. They fail because of selfish, cruel behavior. Like this!”
Claire’s smug expression faltered.
“Liam, don’t be dramatic. You’re seriously making a scene over this? You’re lucky I even let her help. I did her a favor.”
Liam stared at her for a long, cold moment.

A close up of a groom | Source: Midjourney
“You know what? You’re right,” he said calmly. “I don’t want bad energy at my wedding either.”
Claire frowned.
“Oh, so you understand what I mean?” she asked.
“No, I don’t,” he said. “Actually, I’m done. Just completely done.”
Liam wasn’t listening anymore. He turned on his heel and walked straight to the catering table.
Gasps filled the room as Liam grabbed the cake, but no one dared to stop him.

A wedding cake | Source: Midjourney
I was already home, curled up on the couch in stunned silence, when the doorbell rang.
I opened it to find Liam standing there, still in his suit, holding the wedding cake. For a second, neither of us spoke. His face was a mix of exhaustion and something heavier.
“I’m sorry you wasted your time and money on that wedding,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ll make her compensate you. But more than that…”

A woman standing in her doorway | Source: Midjourney
My brother exhaled, shaking his head.
“Thank you. Because without you, I might never have seen Claire for who she really is.”
My throat tightened.
Liam had always been my big brother. The one who looked out for me. And today, when it really mattered… he chose me.

A man standing on a porch | Source: Midjourney
I stepped aside, and he walked in, setting the cake down on my coffee table.
For a long moment, we just stared at it.
Then Liam let out a breathless laugh.
“You know, I haven’t eaten all day.”
I grabbed two forks.
“Then let’s fix that.”

An open cutlery drawer | Source: Midjourney
We sat on the floor, still in formal clothes, digging straight into the wedding cake like a couple of sugar-starved kids.
Liam took one bite, then froze. His eyes flicked to mine, a soft, almost broken sound escaping his throat.
“Chocolate-peanut butter,” he murmured.
“Yeah,” I swallowed thickly.
He stared at his fork, shaking his head.

A slice of cake | Source: Midjourney
“You made this for me,” he said.
It wasn’t a question. Just a quiet realization.
“Of course, I did, Liam.”
Liam pressed his lips together, nodding slowly. He took another bite, chewing carefully, like he was tasting more than just cake. Like he was remembering home.

A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
After a moment, he cleared his throat.
“You know… if this was the wedding cake, I guess that means I got the best part of today.”
I blinked. He exhaled.
“I walked away from someone who didn’t respect me. From a future that would have been miserable.”
He looked at me then, his voice quiet but sure.
“But I still have you.”
“Always,” I whispered.

A woman sitting on the floor | Source: Midjourney
I was in my office, running my fingers over the edge of a new cake design, when I heard a soft knock on the door.
For a second, I thought I imagined it.
Then, it came again. Tentative. Hesitant.
I exhaled, already tired.

A woman sitting at her desk | Source: Midjourney
“Come in,” I called.
The door creaked open, and there she was.
Claire.
She looked… different. Not polished. Not smug. Just pale, uneasy, and carrying the kind of sadness that weighed down her shoulders.
I didn’t stand. I didn’t offer her a seat.
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A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
I just folded my arms and waited.
“Hey.”
“You lost?” I raised an eyebrow.
She flinched but nodded, like she deserved that.
“No. I… I wanted to see you.”
I tilted my head, studying her.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
“I can’t imagine why.”
Claire swallowed, staring down at her hands.
“Liam won’t talk to me. Won’t see me… He…” Her voice caught, and for a split second, I saw genuine regret in her eyes.
But it didn’t move me.
She took a breath, trying again.

A man sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
“I messed up. I…” She exhaled sharply. “I was awful to you, Dahlia. I was selfish and cruel, and I…”
Her fingers twisted together.
“I never meant for things to go this way.”
I laughed, short and humorless.
“Really? Because it felt intentional.”

A frowning woman | Source: Midjourney
Claire winced.
“I thought…” she hesitated. “I thought I could control everything. That if I just pushed hard enough, I’d get my perfect day. And instead? I ruined everything.”
I didn’t say a word.
She glanced at me then, eyes uncertain.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I wanted to…”
“Stop,” my voice was flat. “You don’t get to want anything from me, Claire.”

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
She swallowed hard.
I stood.
“You used me. Lied to me. Now, get out of my bakery.”
She hesitated. Then nodded once and turned toward the door.
She paused, her hand on the handle.
“I really am sorry.”
I didn’t answer. And a moment later, she was gone.

A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
Marianne’s stepsisters have been stealing from her for months. From money to respect to her sense of security in her own home. Her mother won’t listen. Her stepfather won’t believe her. But Marianne refuses to stay powerless. With one ruthless plan, she turns the tables… and ensures that they never take from her again.
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.
I Started Suspecting My Husband of Cheating – A Fortune Cookie Helped Me Expose Him and His Lover

Emily suspects her husband is hiding something, and the doubts gnaw at her daily. On their anniversary, she cleverly uses a fortune cookie to uncover the truth. The shocking revelation exposes a betrayal that shakes her world to its core. Will Emily find the strength to confront him and reclaim her life?
“I can’t take this anymore,” I muttered to myself, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. The hands moved slowly, mocking my impatience.

A clock | Source: Pexels
Mark had been coming home late for months now, always with some excuse about work demands or a last-minute meeting. At first, I believed him. He had just gotten a big promotion, after all.
But lately, his excuses seemed weaker and less convincing.

A worried woman | Source: Pexels
Sighing, I looked around our cozy living room. Everything seemed normal, yet nothing felt right.
The photos of our happy times together lined the shelves, but they now felt like relics of a past that was slipping away.
I sank deeper into the couch, clutching a cushion to my chest.

A woman clutching a pillow | Source: Pexels
“Maybe I’m just being paranoid,” I thought, trying to reassure myself. But the doubt in my mind refused to be brushed off.
The spark in Mark’s eyes was gone, and he wasn’t as affectionate as he used to be.
He used to call me every day during his lunch break just to say he loved me. Now, I barely got a text. We barely made love.

A couple in bed | Source: Pexels
I tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept creeping back, each one more troubling than the last.
I remembered the times he’d been too tired for our weekend outings, the way he pulled away when I reached for his hand.

A woman looking at her partner | Source: Pexels
It wasn’t just the late nights; it was everything.
The way he spoke to me, the lack of affection, the way he seemed so far away even when he was right next to me.
The sound of the front door opening snapped me out of my thoughts. Mark walked in, looking exhausted. He gave me a tired smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

A man in a suit standing at a door | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, Em,” he said, dropping his briefcase by the door. “Sorry, I’m late again. Work was crazy today.”
I forced a smile. “It’s okay, Mark. I just miss you, that’s all.”
He nodded and walked past me, heading straight to the kitchen.

Inside a kitchen | Source: Unsplash
I watched him go, feeling a lump form in my throat. I wanted to believe him, to trust that everything was fine. But the nagging feeling in my gut told me otherwise.
So, when our 10th wedding anniversary came around, I decided it was the perfect opportunity to confirm my suspicions.

A couple staring at each other with a bunch of roses between them | Source: Pexels
Our house was bustling with friends and family. The dining room table was laden with food, and the air buzzed with laughter and chatter. But my mind was elsewhere, focused on the little plan I had put into motion.
We had a tradition of fortune cookies at our annual dinner party.

A person holding a note | Source: Unsplash
That year, I ordered a custom batch with generic lovey-dovey messages for all the guests. For Mark’s cookie, though, I slipped in a special note.
I wanted to see his reaction, to know once and for all where his heart truly lay.

A woman holding a tray of fortune cookies | Source: Midjourney
As dessert was served, everyone eagerly reached for their cookies. The sound of cracking shells and rustling paper filled the room. I watched Mark closely, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Read your fortunes out loud!” someone called out, and the room was soon filled with the cheerful recitation of sweet, optimistic messages.

A man holding a fortune cookie | Source: Midjourney
Mark picked up his cookie, broke it open, and pulled out the slip of paper. “Look at the one you love to the moon and back,” he read aloud.
He smiled, and his eyes briefly flickered to my sister, Allison, before quickly returning to me.

A pretty young woman | Source: Pexels
My heart sank. I felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. I forced myself to smile and kept my composure, but inside, I was breaking.
“That’s a nice one,” someone said, and Mark nodded, slipping the note into his pocket.
No, maybe it was just a coincidence that he looked at Allison. Maybe I’m overthinking, I kept telling myself.

A woman in tears | Source: Pexels
Yet every time I saw Mark and Allison together, laughing and talking, the pain in my chest grew.
The dinner party continued, and I decided to take action.
I casually placed my phone on the table, switching it to video mode.

A woman adjusting her phone on a tripod | Source: Pexels
No one seemed to suspect anything. Mark and Allison certainly didn’t. They were too absorbed in their own little world.
Half an hour passed.
“Excuse me for a moment,” I said, standing up and heading to the restroom.

A modern bathroom | Source: Pexels
Once inside, I locked the door and took a deep breath.
My hands trembled as I picked up my phone to review the footage.
My worst fears were confirmed.

A shocked woman staring at her phone screen | Source: Midjourney
There they were, Mark and Allison, sharing looks that spoke volumes, touching each other in ways that were anything but innocent.
The whispers I managed to catch were filled with hidden meanings and intimate tones.
A wave of nausea hit me, and I had to steady myself against the sink.

A sad woman in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney
It wasn’t just a feeling anymore; it was reality. They were betraying me right under my nose!
I knew I had to confront them, but I needed a plan. I couldn’t just burst out in anger and accusations.
I needed to handle this carefully to make sure they couldn’t wriggle out of it.

A serious-looking woman | Source: Unsplash
I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm of emotions inside me. With the evidence in hand, I returned to the table, my mind racing with what I would say.
“Did I miss anything?” I asked, slipping back into my seat.
I glanced at Mark and Allison, who were now engrossed in a conversation about the desserts.

A happy couple at a table | Source: Midjourney
“No, nothing much,” Mark said, giving me a quick smile. But I could see the guilt in his eyes.
After dinner, I suggested we play a game of charades. It was a favorite at our gatherings, always good for some laughs.
“Sounds fun!” someone replied, and soon everyone had gathered in the living room.

Party guests | Source: Freepik
I had prepared special cards for this game, carefully selecting words and phrases to expose Mark and Allison. The setup was perfect; no one would suspect a thing.
We divided into teams, and the game began.

Friends sitting together | Source: Freepik
Laughter filled the room as guests acted out silly phrases and guessed wildly. Finally, it was Mark’s turn.
He drew a card and hesitated when he read “secret affair.”
His eyes flickered with panic, and he shot a nervous glance at Allison.

A man holding a sheet of paper | Source: Midjourney
“Come on, Mark! What’s it say?” someone teased.
He swallowed hard and started miming. He pointed to himself, then pretended to sneak around, looking guilty. The guests laughed, trying to guess.
“Uh, sneaking? Cheating?” one person guessed.
“Close!” Mark said, his voice strained.

A person holding a document with the word “AFFAIR” | Source: Midjourney
“Secret? Affair?” another guest called out.
Mark nodded, looking relieved as they got it. “Yes, secret affair!”
The room erupted in laughter, everyone oblivious to the true meaning behind his actions. I forced a smile, but inside, my heart ached.
Next, it was Allison’s turn.

Grayscale image of a woman | Source: Pexels
She drew her card, and I saw her face pale. The word “betrayal” stared back at her. She glanced at me, fear in her eyes.
“Your turn, Allison,” I said, my voice steady.
She began to mime, her movements slow and uncertain. She acted out deceit and heartbreak, looking around the room as if seeking an escape.
“Betrayal!” someone finally shouted.

A woman holding a “BETRAYAL” sign | Source: Midjourney
Allison nodded, her face flushed with embarrassment. The guests laughed, thinking it was all part of the game.
But I knew the truth. Mark and Allison were exposed by the end of the game.
I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was to come. This was it.

A woman with a confident look in her eyes | Source: Pexels
I stood up, smiling at the guests who were still chatting and laughing. “Everyone, can I have your attention, please?” I called out, my voice steady.
The room quieted down, and all eyes turned to me.
“I have a little confession to make,” I began.

A woman looking serious | Source: Pexels
“The game we all enjoyed was a setup!” I said. “Mark, Allison, you two did a fantastic job acting out your parts. Maybe because you weren’t acting at all?”
A murmur ran through the room as people exchanged confused glances.
And it was then I held up my phone.

A person holding a phone | Source: Pexels
“I’ve been suspicious for a while, so I recorded you both during dinner!” I said. “Your secret touches and whispers weren’t as subtle as you thought!”
Gasps filled the room as I played the recording.
“Emily, this isn’t what it looks like,” Mark stammered, but I cut him off.

A shocked man | Source: Midjourney
“This anniversary marks the end of our marriage, Mark. I deserve better than lies and betrayal,” I said firmly, looking him straight in the eyes.
Then I turned to Allison, who looked pale and shaken. “I hope it was worth it to betray your family, Allison,” I spat at her.

An annoyed woman | Source: Midjourney
The silence was heavy, broken only by the whispers and shocked gasps of our friends and family. I felt a strange sense of relief wash over me.
The next day, I filed for divorce and cut ties with Allison. The betrayal had shattered my trust, but it had also freed me from a deceitful relationship. I realized I deserved better, and it was time to reclaim my life and find the strength to start anew.

A woman removing her wedding ring | Source: Pexels
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