It was Megan.

“Hey,” she said softly. “Are you okay?”

I turned toward her, trying to keep my voice even. “So this whole party… it wasn’t really about me, was it?”

Her smile faltered. “I didn’t know Mom was going to do it like that. She just said she wanted to ‘make an announcement.’ I didn’t think she’d hijack your birthday.”

“Did you even want a big announcement tonight?”

She hesitated. “I mean… it was exciting. I didn’t expect that kind of reaction.”

I nodded slowly. “Well, I didn’t expect to pay for my own ambush either.”

She looked down. “I’m sorry, Kristen. I really am.”

I left it there. No use yelling. No point dragging Megan into it more than Sharon already had.

Later that night, after most of the guests had trickled out and the cleanup crew was folding chairs and bundling tablecloths, I found Sharon chatting with her friend Gail in the corner.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my voice low but firm.

She looked mildly surprised but waved Gail off.

“Well?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

I stepped in closer. “You humiliated me. You turned my birthday into a promotional event for Megan’s pregnancy.”

She blinked like I was speaking another language. “Sweetheart, your birthday happens every year. But this? A baby! After everything Megan’s been through? This is once-in-a-lifetime.”

I clenched my jaw. “So that justifies using me? My money?”

She scoffed. “You’re being dramatic.”

I didn’t reply. I turned and walked back toward Eric, who stood awkwardly by the car, holding Milo’s blanket.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded.

We drove home in silence. Milo was already asleep in the backseat, his head tilted to the side, mouth slightly open. The only sound was the hum of tires on the road.

When we pulled into the driveway, I turned to Eric.

“I’m done,” I said. “I’m not doing this anymore. If this is how your family treats me, I’m out.”

He nodded slowly, eyes heavy with guilt. “You’re right. I should’ve stepped in. I’m sorry.”

He reached for my hand and squeezed it gently. “From now on, we set boundaries.”

The next morning, I woke up to a ping on my phone.

Venmo Request: Sharon B. – $275.00 for party balance.

I stared at it, half-laughing in disbelief. Then I hit “Decline.” And blocked her.

A week passed. Then two. No word from Sharon.

Then one afternoon, I got an email from a local event planner. The subject line read:
Final Invoice — Megan’s Baby Shower

I clicked it, confused.

There it was—same venue, same catering company. Under the billing section?

Client Name: Kristen B.

My mouth dropped open.

I immediately forwarded the email to Eric, then called the planner to inform her there’d been a mistake. She was apologetic and said Sharon had insisted it was “already handled.” I told her firmly to remove my name and send the corrected invoice to Sharon directly.

Needless to say, I didn’t attend that baby shower.

These days, I keep my distance. Sharon still posts cheery family updates like nothing ever happened. Eric visits occasionally, but he no longer pressures me to come along. Milo doesn’t ask about Grandma much anymore—and honestly, I’m okay with that.

I’ve learned something valuable.

You can bend over backwards to keep peace with people. But if they don’t respect you, no amount of good intentions will ever be enough.

So this year?

I booked a cabin in the woods. Just me, Eric, Milo, and silence.

No guest list.
No speeches.
No surprise announcements.

Just peace.

And cake.
A big one.
With candles.