Seven Years Lost to His Stepsister’s LiesChapter 1

On the seventh anniversary of our relationship, I carefully selected a cake from Cheesecake Factory, hoping to make the day memorable.

Just as I set it down to celebrate, a strange girl approached, her wide eyes fixed on the cake, saying she wanted a piece, too.

I hesitated, uncertain, but eventually reached for the knife to cut her a slice. Before I could, she suddenly pulled out a lighter and ignited the hydrogen balloon hanging closest to me.

The balloon burst instantly, flames roaring dangerously near my face.

When the fire subsided, the scene that met my eyes left me frozen.

My boyfriend, Charles Caddel, was holding the strange girl tightly in his arms, shielding her as if she were the one in danger.

As I stood rooted in disbelief, he rushed to explain, his words tumbling over each other. "Don’t misunderstand! She’s my sister. She was just joking around, that’s all!"

The girl, Dorothea Caddel, let out a pitiful wail, tears streaming down her face. "Sis-in-law is so mean! It’s just a silly cake!"

Then, as if her tantrum wasn’t enough, she shoved the table with such force that the cake I had spent hours preparing shattered into pieces on the floor.

I stood motionless, my gaze locked on the crooked number seven lying amidst the wreckage on the floor. The candles hadn't even been lit, let alone blown out.

A bitter thought clawed its way into my mind; maybe this was the sign I needed. Maybe it was time to let go.

——

Charles stepped toward me, his expression briefly flickering with pity. He reached for my sleeve, his voice soft, almost coaxing.

"Don’t be upset. It’s just a cake. I’ll get you another one."

He hesitated before adding, "Dorothea is just childish. She’s been spoiled since she was little, but she doesn’t mean any harm."

"She’s always wanted to meet you," he continued, his tone overly indulgent. "When she found out it was our anniversary, she probably thought it’d be funny to play a harmless joke."

I stared at him in disbelief, tightening my chest. How could he be so blind, so blatantly biased, as if her actions weren’t a deliberate slap in the face?

Tears burned in my eyes as anger surged through me. I snapped back, my voice laced with disbelief.

"Childish? Then she must be aging terribly, don’t you think? What is she, three years old this year? Hah, more like thirty-one!"