On our anniversary night, I stood in my best dress, waiting for my husband. Then a cake arrived with golden lettering: “It’s time to get divorced!” An hour later, I was on a flight to uncover the truth.
Marriage suited me. It wasn’t always perfect, but I felt loved and secure with Thomas. Our first year as husband and wife had been filled with warmth, late-night conversations, and laughter over burnt pancakes on Sunday mornings.
That’s why I spent two weeks preparing for our first wedding anniversary. Two weeks! Can you imagine?
Every detail had to be perfect. I searched for the best duck à l’orange recipe, practicing it twice to make sure it was just right. I even bought him the designer tie he had admired in a store window months ago.
Finally, the table was set, the candles flickered, and I stood in my best dress, feeling completely happy.
Then my phone rang.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Thomas said casually. “I’m already halfway to the airport.”
I frowned. “What airport?”
“There’s an emergency meeting. Clients, you know how it is…”
I closed my eyes. Breathed in. Breathed out. “Thomas, today is our anniversary.”
“And I haven’t forgotten! I’ll make it up to you, I promise, as soon as I’m back.”
I looked at the beautifully set table and imagined myself sitting there alone. “Right. Safe flight.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. Love you.”
I didn’t want to ruin my evening, so I decided to take a long, luxurious bubble bath. Just as I was sinking into the warmth, the doorbell rang. Sighing, I wrapped a towel around myself and answered the door. A delivery man stood there, holding a large white box tied with a red ribbon.
“Anna?”
I nodded.
“Special delivery,” he said, handing it over.
“Who is it from?”
“Anonymous order. Have a great evening!”
I shut the door, walked to the table, and stared at the box. My heart lifted for a second. Did Thomas arrange a surprise? I love surprises!
I carefully untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside was a cake. The smell of buttercream filled the air. But it wasn’t the cake that stole my breath. It was the message written across the top in elegant golden lettering.
“It’s time to get divorced!”
My mind scrambled for an explanation. A joke? A cruel mistake? Then I saw a small card tucked beneath the lid.
“Hope you take this as well as he did. XOXO.”
Mistress? But how…
Then my phone rang. It was Gloria. My mother-in-law.
“Anna, darling! Happy anniversary!” she chirped.
I swallowed, barely managing a muted “Thank you.”
“How do you like the ring? Thomas said it was exquisite!”
My blood ran cold. Because I never received a ring.
“Oh… yes, it’s beautiful,” I lied.
“Such a shame Thomas had to leave today,” Gloria sighed dramatically. “But what a wonderful opportunity for a surprise!”
“A surprise?”
“Of course! He told me he’s staying at the same hotel where you two once stayed, remember? Oh, how romantic! Buy a ticket and surprise him!”
Something inside me clicked. The cake. The note. The mysterious ring. That wasn’t a coincidence. Was Thomas cheating on me?
“That’s a wonderful idea, Gloria,” I said sweetly. “I’ll book a flight right now.”
“Oh, how exciting! Can’t wait to hear all about it.”
“Of course,” I said, staring at the cake. “Thank you for calling.”
I grabbed my purse and booked the next flight.
I barely made the last flight, sprinting through the terminal. Exhaustion sat heavily on my shoulders by the time I landed, but adrenaline kept me upright. My hands trembled as I checked the room number.
Room 614.
Finally, standing outside the door, my pulse pounded. I took a breath. Knocked.
The door swung open, and I almost fainted.
A brunette. Gorgeous. Silk dress. Smug smile.
“Thomas is in the shower,” she purred. “I’ll let him know you stopped by.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Oh? Wouldn’t want to disturb him?”
“Something like that,” I said, shifting the weight in my hands.
“You look tense. Maybe you should get a massage while you’re here. There’s a great spa downstairs.”
“Thanks for the suggestion,” I said sweetly. “But I brought my stress relief.”
And with one swift motion, I smashed the cake straight into her smug little face.
She shrieked, stumbling back, hands flying to her frosting-covered hair.
“WHAT THE…?! ARE YOU INSANE?!”
“Possibly,” I admitted.
Then I stopped cold. There, wrapped in a plush white bathrobe, sipping champagne, stood Gloria.
“Oh,” she said lazily. “You weren’t supposed to burst in. That’s not very… you, honey.”
“Where’s Thomas?”
“Oh, he’s at another hotel. Who leaves his wife alone on their anniversary? I saw an opportunity and took it.”
“Opportunity for what?”
Gloria sighed. “To get rid of you, sweetheart.”
“The cake…” I breathed.
She laughed. “Oh, I baked it myself! Did you like it?”
“You’re insane. Thomas loves me. You will never separate us.”
Gloria sipped her champagne. “Oh, now it’s just a bit trickier. But don’t worry. I play the long game.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and held it up. Gloria froze.
“Didn’t I mention?” I tapped the screen. “I called Thomas the moment I entered this room. Left the line open.”
Thomas’s voice boomed through the room.
“Mom, I can’t believe you! How could you?! We’ll talk later… Anna, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Wait in the lobby.”
Gloria’s smirk vanished.
“Enjoy your evening,” I purred, heading for the door.
I paused, glancing at the brunette, still dripping in buttercream.
“Oh, and Gloria?” I smirked. “Thanks for the cake. It looks amazing on her face.”
I stood in the hotel lobby, staring at my reflection in the glass doors. Messy hair. Smudged makeup. Frosting on my sleeve. But I had never felt more victorious.
Behind me, hurried footsteps approached. I turned just as Thomas stopped in front of me, breathless.
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“Try ‘my mother is insane’ for starters.”
He exhaled. “Anna, I had no idea…”
“We can talk later. Right now? I’m starving.”
At dinner, Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside was a stunning ring.
“My gift for you is back home.”
Thomas smirked. “Is it another cake?”
“No. But if you ever go on a business trip on our anniversary again… then yes. But it won’t have frosting.”
He laughed, reaching for my hand. That night, we celebrated. It wasn’t perfect. But it was ours.
