I woke up early, determined to surprise Mira with breakfast. The smell of fresh coffee filled our small apartment as I mixed the pancake batter, humming softly to myself.
As I flipped the first golden pancake onto a plate, I heard Mira shuffling into the kitchen. She came up behind me, wrapping her arms around my waist, and I turned to kiss her on the forehead.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” I said with a smile. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
We sat down on the floor, sunlight streaming through the windows. I poured us both coffee, and Mira drizzled syrup over her stack of pancakes.
“So, what’s on the plan for today?” she asked, taking a big bite.
I took a sip of my coffee before replying, “I’ve got that big presentation at 2. What about you?”
“Just a regular shift at the store. Should be home by 6 if all goes well.”
We chatted about our weekend plans as we finished our meal. It was the kind of perfect morning that made me feel so lucky to have Mira in my life.
Little did I know, it would be our last peaceful breakfast for a while.
The next morning, Mira’s phone rang at 6 a.m. sharp. I pretended to be asleep as she reached for it, squinting at the screen.
“Hello?” she mumbled, trying to sound awake.
I could hear Gabriel’s voice on the other end. “Mira, Sarah’s called in sick. Can you come in early to cover her shift?”
Mira sighed, glancing at me before agreeing. “Sure, I’ll be there.”
This became our new normal. Every morning, like clockwork, Gabriel would call at 6 a.m. with another “emergency” — someone was sick, running late, or had some family problem.
Mira would drag herself out of bed, leaving our cozy mornings behind. I would stay in bed, feeling helpless and growing more frustrated as my wife became the go-to solution for every problem at work.
Weeks went by, and I watched as Mira became more and more exhausted. The sparkle in her eyes dimmed, replaced by dark circles. She’d come home and collapse on the couch, barely able to stay awake for dinner.
I tried to help as much as I could — making sure she had coffee ready in the mornings, taking on more chores around the house. But there was only so much I could do to fight off the relentless early morning calls.
One evening, while I was clearing the table, Mira snapped at me for leaving a dish in the sink. As soon as the words left her mouth, I saw regret flash across her face.
“I’m sorry,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I’m just so tired.”
I put down the plate I was holding and moved over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I know, babe. This can’t go on. Have you thought about talking to Evelyn?”
Mira shook her head, leaning into my touch. “I don’t want to stir things up. Gabriel might make my life even harder.”
I frowned but didn’t push it. We finished cleaning up in silence, the tension hanging in the air. As we got ready for bed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had to change.
The next morning, Gabriel called even earlier — 5:45 a.m. I listened as Mira answered, her voice rough with sleep. She agreed to be there by 7, already getting out of bed as she hung up.
I looked over, unable to keep quiet any longer. “Was that Gabriel again?”
Mira nodded, slipping back under the covers. I could just make out her tired eyes in the dim light creeping through the curtains.
“This has to stop, Mira. It’s not fair to you or us.”
She sighed. “I know, but what can I do?”
An idea hit me then, born out of frustration and a deep need to see Mira happy again. “What if we gave him a taste of his own medicine?”
Mira paused, intrigued. “What do you mean?”
“Call him at some ridiculous hour. See how he likes it.”
She laughed, but I could tell the idea was sticking. Maybe it was time for her to stand up for herself.
That night, as we lay in bed, Mira whispered, “Do you really think I should do it?”
I rolled over to face her, able to see her face in the dim light. “Babe, you’re exhausted. You’re stressed. This can’t go on. Something has to change.”
She nodded, chewing her lip. “But what if it backfires? What if he fires me?”
“He can’t fire you for giving him a taste of his own medicine,” I reassured her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And if he tries, we’ll fight it. You’ve got the call logs to prove what he’s been doing.”
Mira took a deep breath, determination lighting up her face. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
We set her alarm for 3:25 a.m. When it went off, I woke up instantly, watching as Mira sat up, her hand shaking as she reached for her phone. I gave her an encouraging nod as she dialed Gabriel’s number.
It rang four times before a groggy voice answered. “Hello?”
“Hi Gabriel, it’s Mira,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “I was wondering if you needed any extra help today?”
There was a long pause. Then, “Mira? It’s 3:30 in the morning. Why are you calling me?”
I could hear the tremor in Mira’s voice as she replied, “Well, I thought you might need someone to cover an early shift. You know, like how you call me every morning at 6?”
The line went dead. Mira stared at her phone, her hands still trembling. I rolled over, giving her a sleepy thumbs up.
“You did it,” I mumbled, feeling a wave of pride. “I’m proud of you.”
Mira barely slept the rest of the night, tossing and turning. I lay awake too, worried about what might happen. What if this backfired? What if I’d pushed her into making a huge mistake?
As Mira got ready for work, I could see the nerves in her every movement. I made her favorite breakfast, trying to be as supportive as possible.
“Whatever happens,” I said as she headed for the door, “we’re in this together. Okay?”
She nodded, managing a small smile before leaving.
The day seemed to drag on forever. I kept checking my phone, expecting a call or text from Mira. When she finally came home, her face was a mix of relief and disbelief.
“You won’t believe what happened,” she said, collapsing onto the couch beside me.
She told me about her confrontation with Gabriel. How she stood her ground and showed him the call logs. How he backed down and even apologized.
“Wow,” I said when she finished, wrapping my arms around her. “I can’t believe it worked so well! I’m so proud of you for standing up for yourself.”
Mira laughed, sounding lighter than she had in weeks. “Me too. I’m glad it did.”
I hugged her tight. “I’m so proud of you, babe. You did great.”
She squeezed back. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
Over the next few days, I watched carefully for any sign of retaliation from Gabriel. But to my surprise and relief, he seemed to stick to his word. The early morning calls stopped, and Mira started coming home with a spring in her step again.
About a week later, Mira came home practically glowing with excitement. She told me about a conversation she’d had with Gabriel, how he’d apologized again and was making changes to how shifts were covered.
“It feels like a whole new place,” she said, her eyes shining. “I actually enjoyed going to work today.”
I pulled her into a hug, feeling a huge weight lift off my shoulders. “I’m so happy for you, babe. You deserve this.”
That night, as we got ready for bed, I noticed a calm in Mira that I hadn’t seen in months. No more tension in her shoulders, no more worried look as she set her alarm.
One morning, about a week later, I woke up to find Mira still in bed at 7:30. She was snuggled close to me, my arm draped over her waist. I opened one eye, hardly daring to believe it.
“No call?” I mumbled.
“No call,” she confirmed, a smile in her voice.
I grinned, pulling her closer. “Looks like our plan worked.”
Mira laughed, sounding happier than she had in weeks. “It sure did. Now, how about some pancakes?”
As we sat down for breakfast, just like old times, I couldn’t help but feel incredibly proud of Mira. She’d faced a tough situation head-on and come out stronger because of it. And I was so grateful to have been there to support her through it all.
Sometimes, you have to take a stand to make things right. And being there to support the person you love through it all? That makes all the difference in the world.
