On our anniversary night, I donned my finest dress, excitedly waiting for Thomas to arrive. Every detail had been planned for weeks—the ideal table setting, soft candlelight, and even a flawlessly rehearsed duck à l’orange dinner. I recalled how, just a few months ago, Thomas had paused at a store window, eyeing a designer tie with a secretive glimmer that made me think I knew every subtle nuance about him—the small gestures that made our life feel safe and warm.
Then my phone rang. “Hey, sweetheart,” Thomas said in a casual tone. “I’m already halfway to the airport.” Perplexed, I asked, “Which airport?” He mumbled something about an emergency meeting with clients, barely acknowledging that it was our anniversary. When I reminded him, he vaguely promised to “make it up to me” upon his return. I forced a smile, though an unsettling feeling began to creep in.
Not willing to let the night go to waste, I sought solace in a bubble bath. The warm water and fragrant bubbles provided a brief comfort—until the doorbell rang. Wrapped in a towel, I opened the door to find a delivery man holding a large white box tied with a red ribbon. “Anna?” he asked. “Special delivery,” he replied with a friendly smile before leaving the package on my doorstep.
Back at the table, my heart fluttered as I untied the ribbon. My breath caught when I saw that the cake inside bore a message in elegant golden letters: “It’s time to get divorced!” A small card underneath added, “Hope you take this as well as he did. XOXO.” My mind raced—is this some cruel prank, a mistake, or something far more sinister?
Before I could process it further, my phone rang again. This time, it was Gloria, my mother-in-law. “Anna, darling! Happy anniversary!” she chirped. I managed a quiet “Thank you” as she continued gleefully, “How do you like the ring? Thomas said it was exquisite!” My blood went cold—I’d never received any ring. Thomas had always surprised me with thoughtful gifts on special occasions, but today, nothing like that had arrived. Gloria went on, oozing false sweetness, “What a shame Thomas had to leave today, but isn’t it a wonderful chance for a surprise? You should book a flight and surprise him at the hotel where you once stayed together. Isn’t that romantic?”
That was when everything clicked into place: the cake, the card, and the mysterious ring I’d never seen all pointed to one painful truth—Thomas was cheating. My heart pounded as I immediately booked a flight. I barely caught my connection, sprinting through the terminal until I arrived at Room 614. My pulse thundered as I knocked.
The door opened to reveal a striking brunette in a silk dress, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. Behind her, Thomas’s clothes were scattered carelessly on the bed. My stomach dropped. With a self-assured smirk, she remarked, “Thomas is in the shower. I’ll let him know you stopped by.” She took her time, her gaze daring me to react. “You look tense—maybe you should relax with a massage at the spa downstairs,” she mocked.
That was the final straw. Without a word, I grabbed the cake and smashed it into her face. Buttercream and fondant exploded everywhere as she shrieked, stumbling back with icing dripping from her lashes. “What the—are you insane?!” she screamed, flailing as I dodged a flying pillow. “I aimed for your dignity, but it seems you never had much to begin with,” I retorted before storming toward the bathroom, my anger surging.
But then I stopped. In the bathroom doorway, wrapped in a plush white bathrobe and casually sipping champagne, stood Gloria. “Oh, you weren’t meant to burst in like that, Anna. That’s not very… you,” she said condescendingly, eyeing the remnants of cake on my hands. “Where’s Thomas?” I demanded. “Oh, he’s at another hotel. Who leaves his wife alone on their anniversary? I saw an opportunity and took it,” she replied with a dismissive giggle. My skin prickled as I pressed, “Opportunity for what?” Gloria theatrically sighed, “To get rid of you, sweetheart.”
I couldn’t believe the audacity. “The cake…” I began, but she only laughed, taking another sip of her champagne. “I baked it myself! Did you like it?” she cooed. Then, gesturing lazily toward a disheveled figure in the next room, she added, “But Alicia—that’s the one who’s perfect now. A successful model, beautiful, well-connected. You’ve met her, haven’t you? Isn’t it delightful?” I stared in disbelief, fury mixing with heartbreak as I shot back, “Thomas loves me, and you’ll never tear us apart.”
Calmly, I pulled my phone from my pocket and activated the speakerphone. “I called Thomas as soon as I got here,” I said. Gloria’s smug smile faltered as Thomas’s voice boomed through the speaker: “Mom, I can’t believe you! How could you?! Anna, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Wait in the lobby.” The spell was broken. “Enjoy your evening,” I purred as I left, tossing one final remark about the cake’s new home on Alicia’s face.
I emerged into the hotel lobby, disheveled—hair tangled, makeup smudged, frosting on my sleeve—but with an exhilarating sense of victory. Just then, Thomas appeared, breathless and dazed. “I don’t even know what to say,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. I replied dryly, “Try saying, ‘my mother is insane.’” His expression softened as he took my hand. “Anna, I had no idea…” he murmured.
We found a quiet table for dinner. By dessert, I felt like I could finally breathe again. Then Thomas reached into his pocket and produced a small velvet box. With a mix of curiosity and apprehension, I set my fork down. “Is this… from your mother?” I asked softly. He laughed and shook his head. “No, it’s from me,” he said, opening the box to reveal a stunning ring. “My gift for you is waiting back home,” he teased with a smirk. “Is it another cake?” he joked, and I quipped, “Only if you plan on celebrating another anniversary without me—just know it won’t have frosting.” We laughed, and as the night wore on, we celebrated in our own imperfect way.
That evening, despite the battles looming with his overbearing mother, I realized I had drawn a firm line—my boundaries would no longer be overstepped. Even though our anniversary night had spiraled into chaos, in that messy, bittersweet moment, Thomas and I reaffirmed what truly belonged to us—our love, our resilience, and our shared future.
What would you have done if you were in my shoes?