This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of our lives. After two years of trying, countless doctor visits, and tears shed in both heartbreak and hope, Jerry and I were finally pregnant. It felt like the universe had finally aligned, and we were on the path to our long-awaited happily ever after.
This was supposed to be one of the happiest days of our lives. After two years of trying, countless doctor visits, and tears shed in both heartbreak and hope, Jerry and I were finally pregnant. It felt like the universe had finally aligned, and we were on the path to our long-awaited happily ever after.
“I’ll handle everything, Misha,” Nancy said. “I hope it’s a girl—I can’t wait to spoil her!”
I loved seeing her enthusiasm. My mom helped me set up the party, decorating the house with pink and blue balloons, flower arrangements, and a banner that read, “He or She? Let’s See!” It looked like something straight out of Pinterest.
The star of the show was the cake—a pristine white confection with its hidden secret waiting to be revealed. As guests arrived, laughter and chatter filled the house. Nancy, however, showed up in an all-black outfit, which struck me as odd, but I brushed it off. She wasn’t exactly known for her sense of style.
Finally, the moment came. Jerry put his arm around me, and we held the knife together, ready to cut the cake as our family counted down.
“Three… two… one!”
The knife glided through the layers, and as we pulled out the first slice, the room fell silent. The inside of the cake wasn’t pink or blue—it was black. Pitch black.
For a moment, no one moved. The room was filled with awkward glances, muted whispers, and a collective sense of confusion. My stomach twisted. This had to be a mistake—or a prank. But no one was laughing.
My eyes darted to Nancy, who stood off to the side. She was dabbing her eyes with a tissue, and I realized she wasn’t just standing in black—she was crying.
“Nancy?” I called out, trying to keep my voice steady. “What’s going on? Why is the cake black?”
She hesitated, visibly trembling. “I… I didn’t know what else to do,” she stammered.
“What are you talking about?” Jerry asked, his brow furrowed.
Nancy took a deep breath, then blurted out the truth. “Ten years ago, a fortune teller told me that if my first grandchild was a boy, it would bring ruin to your family and a terrible illness to me. I couldn’t ignore it! I thought if the cake was black, it might… stop the curse somehow.”
The room collectively gasped.
Jerry stared at her, stunned. “You’ve been holding onto this for ten years? Mom, are you serious? You let a con artist dictate this moment for us?”
Nancy looked down, guilt written all over her face. “I was terrified,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to ruin your lives. I thought… I thought this would protect you.”
Before anyone could respond, Jerry’s cousin Megan chimed in, holding up her phone. “Wait a second—J. Morris? That’s the fortune teller, right?”
Nancy nodded. “Yes! She was famous!”
Megan scrolled quickly, then stopped, her face lighting up. “She was exposed years ago! Look!” She showed an article to everyone, explaining how the fortune teller had been discredited for faking predictions and exploiting vulnerable clients.
Nancy’s face crumpled. “I can’t believe this. I’ve been so scared, all for nothing.”
Jerry rubbed his forehead, exhaling sharply. “Mom, you ruined one of the most important moments of my life over a scam.”
Nancy broke into sobs. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how to stop believing it. I just wanted to protect you.”
As much as I wanted to stay angry, seeing her so broken softened me. I walked over, placed a hand on hers, and said, “It’s okay, Nancy. Now we can move on. This moment is still special. You’re going to be a grandma, and that’s what matters.”
She looked up at me, tears streaming down her face, and smiled weakly. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Jerry let out a frustrated but amused laugh. “Wait, so… does this mean we’re having a boy?”
Laughter rippled through the room, breaking the tension. Even Nancy managed a chuckle. Megan took a picture of the cake and joked, “This is going straight to Instagram. #GothGenderReveal.”
In the end, we all grabbed plates and dug into the black cake. It wasn’t the reveal we had planned, but it was unforgettable. More importantly, the misunderstanding brought us closer as a family.
And now, all we had to do was wait for our baby boy to arrive and bring joy into our lives—without any curses attached.
What would you have done in our place? Share this story with someone who could use a laugh today!