I told Eric no.
I wasn’t rude. I simply said, “Not this year. I want our anniversary to be just us.”
He agreed. Smiled. Kissed my head.
But a week later, on our third anniversary, history repeated itself.
Year one, Judith planned a family brunch. Year two, her “small dinner” became a 16-person buffet. So this year, I was clear: Just us.
He said, “You got it, babe.”
I got ready—new dress, glowing, excited. I asked twice about our dinner reservation. He confirmed.
But on the drive, Judith kept calling. “Nothing important,” he said.
We arrived at the restaurant. It looked perfect—romantic, intimate. I believed him. Until I walked in.
There they were: Judith, Joe, Courtney, Jenna… even her kids. Balloons. A glittery banner. Half-filled wine glasses.
My heart sank.
“Smile, Gracie,” Eric whispered. “We’ll celebrate with them now, then just us… later.”
I walked out.
He followed. “We can’t leave! That’s rude.”
“No,” I said. “You lied. You made a choice—and it wasn’t me.”
Then Judith came out. “It’s a family celebration,” she said. “Don’t be ungrateful.”
I smiled. Called a cab. Went home alone.
The next day, her message: You embarrassed Eric. Be a wife, not a drama queen.
I didn’t reply. I called Tasha instead. She offered me a suite at her hotel. I packed light, wore a dress Eric had never seen, and left.
That night, I drank champagne alone, ate truffle pasta, and didn’t answer Eric’s calls. The next morning, I sent a selfie: towel-wrapped, sunlit shoulder, coffee in hand.
“Since you wanted a family dinner so bad, I figured you could have it. I’ll stay out of the way. Happy anniversary.”
Eric came to the hotel that night, full of guilt.
“I didn’t want to upset her,” he said. “I thought you’d forgive me.”
“You didn’t think of me,” I replied. “Again.”
He asked what to do. I handed him an envelope—three therapist names. “Pick one. If you choose her over me again, we’re done.”
He started therapy. Once a week. Then twice.
He stopped calling me Gracie. The name became a promise. Eventually, he earned it back.
Six months later, we took a trip. No calls. No guests. Just us.
Finally.