Our first wedding anniversary was supposed to be magical. I had everything planned—romantic dinner, a heartfelt gift, candles flickering across our beautifully set table. I wore a dress that made me feel like the leading lady in a love story.
Instead, I got a message. One I’d never forget.
It began with a phone call. Thomas, my husband, called just as I was lighting the last candle.
“Hey love, I hate to do this,” he said, his tone oddly calm, “but I have to fly out tonight. Last-minute emergency with clients.”
I blinked at the glowing setup in front of me—the duck à l’orange I spent hours preparing, the wine chilling, the gift I knew he wanted. I swallowed my hurt and smiled through the phone.
“Safe flight,” I said.
I told myself not to let it ruin the evening. So I drew a warm bath, determined to turn disappointment into peace.
That’s when the doorbell rang.
A delivery man handed me a box wrapped with a red ribbon.
“Special delivery for Anna,” he said with a grin.
My heart lifted. Maybe Thomas had arranged something special after all.
But when I opened the box, I froze.
A perfectly decorated cake sat inside, topped with gold lettering that read:
“It’s Time to Get Divorced.”
For a moment, I couldn’t move. Then I noticed the small card beneath the lid:
“Hope you take it as well as he did. XOXO.”
What was happening?
Still dazed, my phone rang again—this time it was Gloria, my mother-in-law.
“Happy anniversary, darling!” she chirped. “Thomas told me he gave you the ring you wanted—wasn’t it gorgeous?”
My stomach dropped.
There was no ring.
He always gave me gifts first thing in the morning on special occasions. Always.
“Oh, yes. Beautiful,” I lied.
“And isn’t it sweet?” she continued. “He’s staying at that same hotel where you two spent your honeymoon. You should surprise him!”
And just like that, the pieces clicked into place.
The cake. The missing ring. The suspicious tone.
So I smiled through gritted teeth. “You’re right, Gloria. I think I will surprise him.”
Within the hour, I was on a flight.
By the time I landed, it was late. Tired but determined, I made my way to the hotel Gloria had “accidentally” revealed. A kind receptionist confirmed the room number after a bit of casual sweet-talking and a flash of the cake photo.
Room 614.
I stood at the door, heart pounding, and knocked.
A stunning brunette opened the door. She leaned against the frame in a silk dress, her lips curling into a smug smile.
“Thomas is in the shower,” she purred.
“I won’t be long.”
She suggested I get a spa treatment—said I looked tense. I smiled sweetly.
“Thanks, but I brought my own stress relief.”
And then I smashed the cake into her smug little face.
The buttercream explosion was glorious.
She shrieked. “Are you insane?!”
“Maybe. But it’s your color,” I said, stepping past her.
And that’s when I stopped cold.
Because there, lounging in a robe and sipping champagne, was Gloria.
My mother-in-law.
“Oh,” she said, not even surprised. “You weren’t supposed to come here. That’s very unlike you, Anna.”
“Where’s Thomas?” I asked, stunned.
“At another hotel. He really did go on a work trip. I just… seized the opportunity.”
“To do what?” I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.
“To get rid of you,” she said, sipping her drink. “Alicia’s a much better match for my son—successful, stunning, connected. You were just a… placeholder.”
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
“And the cake?” I asked.
She beamed. “Baked it myself. Adorable, right?”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m strategic,” she corrected. “You’ll be gone soon enough.”
But I just smiled.
“Actually…” I held up my phone. “I’ve been on a call with Thomas this whole time. When I realized this wasn’t his suit on the bed, I left the line open.”
Her expression cracked.
And just then, Thomas’s furious voice rang out on speaker:
“Mom, how could you?! Anna, I’m coming. Wait for me downstairs.”
Her game? Over.
I walked out with frosting still on my fingers and Alicia screaming in the background. Gloria sat speechless, her scheme in ruins.
Downstairs, I met Thomas. He was breathless, shaken.
“I didn’t know she’d do this,” he said.
“Let’s talk later,” I replied. “Right now, I need food. And wine.”
We had dinner in quiet understanding. When dessert came, he pulled out a small box.
“This one’s from me,” he said.
Inside was a gorgeous ring.
“And the real gift is waiting at home,” he added.
I smiled. “If you ever miss our anniversary again, that cake will look kind.”
He laughed and kissed my hand.
It wasn’t the anniversary I imagined, but it was unforgettable. And it made one thing crystal clear: I wasn’t the woman I was when I married into this family.
I was stronger now. And no one—not even Gloria—was going to push me aside again.