Chapter 13 - The Wedding Cake Became A Joke Before The Memory Did
For almost a year, I hated white wedding cakes.
Ridiculous.
I knew.
Then our security team handled another ballroom reception.
Same venue group.
Different property.
There was another enormous white cake.
My supervisor noticed me staring.
“You gonna fight anybody?”
“Only the frosting.”
He smiled.
Humor helped.
Eventually the original wedding story became something my coworkers could joke about carefully.
“Cake zone secured?”
“Rose petals hostile?”
“Leg sweep authorization denied?”
The first few times I hated it.
Then I joined in.
Not because the incident stopped mattering.
Because shame loses power when you can look directly at what happened without needing to rewrite yourself as either hero or villain.
I had made a bad decision.
Not become a bad person.
Vanessa had behaved cruelly.
That did not justify me hurting her.
May you like
Neither truth needed to consume the rest of my career.
That was freeing.
