Eat that mess yourself: how my sister embarrassed me in front of everyone over a cake that wasnt mine
Elodie had meticulously styled her hair, slipped into her prettiest dress, and, after a light spritz of perfume, headed to her older sister Camilles birthday. In her hands she carried a neatly wrapped box containing a cake, hoping it would be a pleasant surprise and smooth over their strained relationship. When she arrived on the fifth floor, Elodie knocked twice. The door opened, and Camilleglowing in a fresh robe with flawless curlscheered:
Is that for me?! Its my birthday, you didnt forget, did you?
Of course its for you,Elodie replied calmly, handing over the box.
Camille lifted the lid, peered inside, and her admiration quickly turned to suspicion.
Did you bake it yourself?
Yes,Elodie answered with a slight hesitation.
Really?Camille furrowed her brow, turning the box over. Whats it made of?
Should we talk about the recipe or join the guests?Elodie tried to dodge.
It was already too late. Camille sensed something was offand she had reason. Three days earlier she had called her sister in tears:
I broke a nail and fought with Antoine. I have no desire for anything! Cancel the cake, cancel everything!
Elodie took the news with a philosophical shrug and accepted an urgent order from a regular client. But that very afternoon Camille called back:
We made up! He gave me a gold bracelet! Ill be waiting at sevenp.m. with the cake!
You had canceled everythingElodie stammered.
Stop making excuses! Youre a pastry chef, prove it!
Elodie tried to explain that a cake couldnt be made in six hours, but Camille pressed on. She even rang their mother, hoping for support:
Is it really that hard to please your own sister?she heard in response.
Realizing she was on her own, Elodie improvised: she bought an unsold cake from a littleknown baker also named Elodie (not the same one). It looked impressive on the outside. The intention mattered, right? But Camille spotted the ruse immediately.
Elodie, come here!she shouted toward the kitchen.
A brunette with long hair appeared, and Elodie recognized her at once.
Is that your cake?Camille asked coldly.
Mine. She sold it to me. So youre the legendary pastrychef sister?the other Elodie sneered.
Elodie froze. The guests fell silent. Camille, lips pressed, ripped off the lid, plunged a finger into the creamand flung it straight at her sisters face.
Eat that trash yourself!she spat. You didnt even bother to make anything yourself. Get out!
She shoved Elodie outside before doing the same to the other baker, who, as she left, cursed the whole household and made an obscene gesture.
Outside, Elodie wiped her face with a wipe and opened her phone. Dozens of messages from her mother waited:
You disgrace the family! Betray your own sister! Are you ashamed?
She didnt reply. She simply turned off the screen in silence. But the drama wasnt over.
The next day, Camille posted on social media: Dont even trust your sistershe brought me a storebought cake and pretended it was hers. What a shame.
Elodie cried all morning. Then she gathered herself. Not for them, but for herself. That day she swore: no more cakes for the family, no more gestures of goodwill toward people who could crush you at any moment.
And for the first time in ages, she felt lighter. From now on, her life would contain only what is truly sweetno fakes, no hypocrisy, and no socalled family.
Clean Up This Mess Yourself: How My Sister Humiliated Me in Front of Everyone Over a Cake
