At our wedding, my husband’s sister gave us an empty envelope saying, “Don’t deny yourselves anything!”; on her birthday, I decided to take revenge and prepared a “special gift” for her 
A wedding isn’t just about love, flowers, and beautiful photos. It’s also the moment when the people around you suddenly show their true colors. My husband Mark and I understood this very quickly.
We prepared for the wedding ourselves. For almost two years, we saved money, didn’t go on vacation, and counted every expense. We just wanted a simple, warm celebration—for ourselves and our loved ones. There weren’t many guests, about forty people.
Among them was Mark’s older sister, Giulia. She was thirty, had a good job, a car, designer clothes, and the habit of thinking she was better than everyone else. With me, her attitude was… polite but cold. She never said anything directly, but always managed to make it clear that, in her opinion, her brother could have chosen someone “more serious.”
“Are you sure you want exactly this cake?” she wrinkled her nose. “No one does it like this anymore.”
“And the restaurant… well, I’d give it a four. But for you, it’s probably fine.”
I kept quiet. I didn’t want an argument before the wedding. Mark tried to smooth things over too:
“Don’t pay attention to her—she just likes to be in control.”
“Likes” is putting it mildly.
The wedding day
The day itself went almost perfectly. The ceremony, the music, the guests, the emotions. If it hadn’t been for Giulia.
She showed up in a red dress with a huge neckline—as if it weren’t her brother’s wedding, but her own personal entrance. At the reception, she behaved like the star of the evening: interrupting the host, jumping into every game first, and shouting louder than anyone else:
“Kiss! What are you sitting there for—kiss properly!”
She ordered the most expensive champagne separately.
“The regular one gives me a headache,” she told the waiter, without even asking us.
When the congratulations began, Giulia took the microphone and spoke longer than anyone else—about what a caring sister she was, how she had always supported Mark, and how happy she was for us.
“I’m giving you this gift from the bottom of my heart,” she said solemnly, handing us a thick burgundy envelope. “Don’t deny yourselves anything.”
The envelope looked expensive.
We returned to the hotel at dawn and started opening the gifts. Friends, colleagues, parents—everything was sincere and heartfelt.
Finally, Mark picked up that burgundy envelope.
“Well, Giulia must have been generous,” he smiled. “She was bragging about her bonus.”
He opened the envelope, looked inside, shook it, turned it upside down.
Empty.
Inside there was only a card: “With love. Live beautifully!”
“Maybe it fell out?” Mark said, confused, tearing the envelope open.
No. There really was nothing inside.
He sat there in silence, staring at one spot.
“This must be a mistake… She probably mixed it up…”
“No,” I said calmly. “She knew exactly what she was doing. The envelope was sealed. The speech was prepared.”
“I’ll call her.”
“No,” I stopped him. “She’ll wriggle out of it. Say it was stolen. We’ll do it differently.”
I carefully sealed the envelope again.
“Let’s just wait. Sometimes people create their own moment.”
A couple of months later, it was Giulia’s birthday. A restaurant, karaoke, lots of guests. A week before, she sent out a wish list. There were gift cards, designer items, and a note: “Cash is also fine. At least 50 euros per person. The restaurant is expensive.”
“I’m not going,” Mark said.
“We’re going,” I replied. “I have the perfect gift for her.”
I want to share with you the story of what kind of “gift” I gave my sister-in-law, and I really hope for your support. 
I told the continuation in the first comment 
I took the burgundy envelope to the restaurant—the same one. Inside was her own card. And a few lines from me:
“We’re returning your contribution to our future. May it bring you as much joy as it brought us.”
Of course, there was no money inside.
When we went up to congratulate her, I said out loud:
“Giulia, at our wedding you gave us a very memorable gift. So symbolic that we decided to return it to you. Everything should be fair.”
She recognized the envelope immediately. For a second she looked confused, but greed won. She opened it right there in front of everyone.
She read it. Turned pale. Shook the envelope.
“And where’s the money?” she blurted out.
“Exactly as much as there was inside when you gave it to us,” I answered calmly. “No more, no less.”
“Did you decide to humiliate me?!” she screamed.
“No,” Mark stepped in. “We just returned your gift. You didn’t forget anything—and neither did we.”
We stood up and left. Shouts and accusations flew after us, but we didn’t care anymore.
