My Brothers Fiance Was My Childhood Bully, So I Gave Her a Wedding Gift She Will Never Forget
I was thrilled when my brother announced he was engaged — until he said her name. Nancy. The girl who had made my childhood unbearable, whose quiet, cutting cruelty left invisible scars I carried for years. She never hit or yelled, but her words were like blades, slicing through confidence while leaving no trace for teachers or parents to see. I learned to shrink, to vanish, to avoid her entirely.
By high school, invisibility became my skill. I ate lunch alone, avoided eye contact, and counted down the days to freedom. College brought distance and relief. I built a life without Nancy — friends, career, peace.
Then my brother called. “Guess what? I’m engaged!” he said brightly.
I smiled. “That’s wonderful! Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Nancy,” he said. My stomach sank. “From high school.”
I froze. Memories rushed back — whispered insults, pointed remarks, a constant undercurrent of fear. He tried to reassure me that people change, that she was different now, but could someone really transform that completely?
Despite my reservations, I accepted his invitation to the engagement party, partly to see for myself whether Nancy had truly changed or simply learned new ways to hide her old malice.
The restaurant was warm, filled with laughter and clinking glasses. Matt greeted me warmly, but then I saw her. Nancy stood by the bar, radiant, eyes locking on me with a slow, deliberate smile. She didn’t miss the chance to deliver her signature digs under a polished veneer.
“Oh, still rocking that haircut from high school? So nostalgic!” she said. “Still single? That’s so freeing!” Every comment was carefully sweetened, yet sharp enough to sting. Later, leaning close, she whispered just to me: “Still the same little loser.”
I didn’t react. Instead, I smiled. Because I had a plan — one she would never see coming.