Marriage suited me, though it wasn’t always perfect. With Thomas, I felt loved and secure. Our first year was full of warmth, late-night talks, and laughter over burnt pancakes. So, I spent two weeks preparing for our first anniversary.
I wanted everything to be perfect: the perfect recipe, the perfect gift, even remembering the designer tie Thomas had admired months before. The table was set, candles flickered, and I wore my best dress, ready to celebrate.
Then, my phone rang. Thomas was halfway to the airport for an emergency meeting. “But today is our anniversary,” I said. “I haven’t forgotten,” he promised, “I’ll make it up to you.”
I smiled through my disappointment. Alone at the table, I sank into a bubble bath, determined to not let the evening be ruined. Then the doorbell rang. A delivery. An anonymous cake with a shocking message: “It’s time to get divorced!”
My heart raced as I saw a card signed, “Hope you take this as well as he did. XOXO.” Was it a joke? I tried to call Thomas, but then my mother-in-law, Gloria, called. She was overly enthusiastic about the anniversary, mentioning a surprise hotel where Thomas was staying.
Suddenly, it clicked. The cake, the note, the missing ring. Was Thomas cheating? I rushed to book a flight.
Arriving at the hotel, I confronted a stunning woman named Alicia, just as Thomas’s clothes lay on the bed. She casually mentioned that he was in the shower. But as I stepped further inside, I froze. There, in a robe with champagne, was Gloria.
“You’re not supposed to burst in,” she mocked. “I saw an opportunity to get rid of you, darling.”
The cake! Gloria had baked it herself. “Thomas was never right for you,” she sneered.
I pulled out my phone, revealing I had called Thomas when I entered the room. His angry voice blared through the speaker. “Mom, I can’t believe you!” Gloria’s smirk faltered. I turned to leave, calling back, “Thanks for the cake. It looks amazing on Alicia.”
Back in the lobby, Thomas arrived, out of breath. “I didn’t know,” he said. We talked later, but first, I was starving. At dinner, he handed me a small box, and inside was a stunning ring.
“I got this for you,” Thomas said, grinning. “My real gift is back home.”
The night wasn’t perfect, but it was ours. And I’d made one thing clear: crossing my boundaries wouldn’t be so easy anymore.
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