When my future sister-in-law destroyed my backyard for her emergency wedding, I stayed calm. But at her reception, my special gift left her smirk gone.
Kara, my fiancé’s spoiled sister, had always gotten her way. My house—and especially my backyard—was my sanctuary: painted white picket fence, roses I planted for my late mother, a trellis I built myself, winding paths, and garden beds.
When her venue flooded days before her wedding, she begged to use my yard. Against my instincts, I agreed—on one condition: nothing could be changed.
Two days later, I returned to find my backyard ruined: fence ripped out, flower beds destroyed, roses butchered, trellis smashed. Kara stood in the chaos, thrilled. Colin didn’t defend me; he laughed.
At her reception, I wheeled forward a large gift box. Inside were envelopes detailing damages, costs, and court orders—legally enforceable. The room buzzed.
Colin protested. I slid my engagement ring off and pressed it into his hand.
“No, Colin. You embarrassed me by letting your sister destroy my home. I will not marry a man who won’t defend me.”
Applause erupted. Kara screamed. I walked out, leaving the man who failed me and the family that never respected me.
