Hoping for a special anniversary? I’m Zoe, and my third with Ethan turned sour when his mom pulled the strings. I’d insisted on a private night, and he agreed with a nod, “Just us, Zoe.” After past family takeovers, I was clear this time. He smiled, “Perfect plan.”
I glammed up in a bold purple dress, gift in hand, excited for our dinner date. At the elegant café, I walked in to find Ethan’s mom, dad, brother, and aunts— a “surprise” party with balloons. My heart dropped. Ethan said, “It’s fine, we’ll do our thing later,” but I walked out, heels echoing.
In the lot, he chased me, “Don’t embarrass us!” I countered, “You ignored me.” His mom approached, “It’s family, sweetie,” but I called a ride and left. Her text called me “dramatic.” Reflecting, I invited them back, cooking Ethan’s favorite curry. Two tables greeted them: one grand for us, one small for his mom and him with a photo and sign, “Mom and Her Crown Seat Only.”
“Your spot’s there,” I said brightly. His mom chuckled, but Ethan shifted uncomfortably as we ate. Later, he texted, “This was petty—we’re over.” I replied, “I’m done fading for you. Bye.” With tea, I felt strong. I pushed him to therapy—he set limits with his mom and rebuilt our bond. Six months later, we traveled solo—share this to rise!
