The Gift He Shouldn’t Have Thrown Away
When my fiancé tossed my handmade gift in the trash and laughed about it with his friends, he thought it was just a joke. He had no idea his cruel little stunt would cost him everything.
The Beginning: Love at First Sight?
Greg and I met at a college party, and I was instantly hooked. He had this way of making me feel like I was the only girl in the room.
“You’re different from other girls,” he’d say, flashing that charming grin. “You actually get my sense of humor.”
Back then, I thought it was romantic. Now? I realize it was a red flag in disguise.
Nine months later, he got down on one knee, and I said yes without hesitation. My friends screamed with excitement, my mom cried happy tears over FaceTime, and I felt like I was floating.
The Perfect Girlfriend
Greg seemed to love all the little things I did for him.
When I left cute notes in his car, he’d text me heart emojis. When I surprised him with his favorite cookies, he’d kiss my forehead and call me his “sweet girl.”
So when his birthday came around, I wanted to do something special. I didn’t have much money—just a part-time job at a bookstore—but I had love, and I had creativity.
“I want to make him something from the heart,” I told my best friend Sarah as we browsed the craft aisle at Target.
“That’s so sweet!” she said. “What are you thinking?”
I decided on a scrapbook.
The Scrapbook of Memories
I spent hours collecting photos, ticket stubs from every movie we’d seen, and even the little Post-it notes I’d left for him. I doodled inside jokes, decorated the cover with calligraphy, and poured my heart into every page.
“This is beautiful, Alice,” my roommate Emma said, watching me work late into the night. “He’s going to love it.”
“I hope so,” I whispered, carefully placing another photo. “I just want him to know how much these nine months have meant to me.”
The Moment That Shattered Me
On his birthday, I handed him the scrapbook, my heart pounding.
“Wow,” he said, flipping through it slowly. “This is… amazing. I love it, babe.”
He hugged me tight, kissed me, and placed it on his living room shelf—right where everyone could see it.
I was so happy.
But then, three days later, everything changed.
We were at his apartment with his friends when I overheard them talking about birthday gifts.
“So, what’d you get for your birthday, man?” his friend Jake asked.
I smiled, expecting Greg to proudly show off the scrapbook.
Instead, he laughed.
“Oh man, you guys have to see this,” he said, grabbing my scrapbook off the shelf.
My stomach dropped.
“Look at this,” he sneered, waving it around like it was a joke. “Straight outta middle-school romance.”
Then—he threw it in the trash.
Just like that. My heart, my effort, my love—trashed.
His friends burst out laughing.
I stood there, frozen, forcing a smile like it didn’t destroy me.
“Babe, relax,” Greg said, seeing my face. “It’s just a joke.”
A joke. That’s what I was to him.
The Turning Point
The next night, Greg’s best friend, Mark, invited us over. I didn’t want to go, but Greg insisted.
Something felt off the second we walked in. Mark kept glancing at me, his jaw tight.
Then—he pulled out my scrapbook.
“Greg,” Mark said, his voice dangerously calm. “Do you recognize this?”
Greg laughed. “Oh, that thing again?”
Mark’s face darkened. “I found it in your trash. After the party. After she left.”
Greg shrugged. “Yeah, so? It was just sitting there.”
That’s when Mark exploded.
*”Just sitting there?! This thing she spent *hours* making for you? This piece of her heart that you threw away like garbage?!”*
The room went dead silent.
Greg tried to laugh it off. “Dude, it was just a joke—”
“NO.” Mark’s voice was ice-cold. *”You don’t get it. You didn’t just insult a gift, Greg. You insulted *her.“
Tears burned my eyes. Someone finally saw me.
“This girl,” Mark said, holding up the scrapbook like it was treasure, *”put her heart into this. She saved every memory, every moment that mattered to you. And you *threw it away* for a cheap laugh?”*
Greg’s face turned red. “It wasn’t that deep—”
*”IT *IS* THAT DEEP!”* Mark shouted. *”You don’t deserve her. Most guys would *kill* for a fiancée who cares this much. But you? You spat on it. And that makes you the biggest fool I know.”*
The End—And a New Beginning
That night, I left alone.
The next morning, I called Greg.
“We’re done,” I said, my voice steady.
He begged, apologized, tried to backtrack—but I wasn’t listening.
“People who love you don’t humiliate you for fun,” I said. “Goodbye, Greg.”
Four Months Later…
I was at my favorite coffee shop when I heard a familiar voice.
“Alice?”
I turned. Mark.
We talked for hours. He admitted he’d had feelings for me for months—but never acted because of Greg.
Then he pulled something out of his bag.
My scrapbook.
“I couldn’t let it get thrown away again,” he said softly. “It’s beautiful. Just like you.”
Now? We’ve been together for a year.
He keeps every note I write him. He saves every ticket stub. He treasures me.
And Greg?
He lost the best thing he ever had—and handed me straight to the man who truly deserved me.
Best. Revenge. Ever.