Tyler’s mom didn’t think I was good enough, and somehow, he believed her. She called me “not future material,” and Tyler called off our wedding. So for our last dinner, I planned a farewell neither of them would ever forget.
Tyler’s proposal was perfectly imperfect—tipsy on my balcony with wine and takeout, grinning like a fool. I said yes before he finished asking. We dreamed of a quirky wedding with ramen and cosplay, but Patricia changed everything the moment I met her.
At dinner, Patricia was all sweetness and smiles, but as soon as Tyler stepped away, her true colors showed. She told him I was childish, poor, and obsessed with cartoons. Shockingly, he agreed and wanted to end things right then.
I said okay but asked for one final dinner together. He came, thinking it was a date. I served dinner and gave him a velvet box—a goodbye gift: a tattoo session with my artist friend. The next day, Tyler woke up inked with “Property of Patricia — Mama’s Boy For Life.” Now he’s stuck with it, and I’m with Devon. Revenge, it turns out, is surprisingly sweet.