The day before my husband’s birthday, I discovered he might be cheating. So I threw him a surprise party — cake, candles, and a cheater-themed twist he’d never forget. I expected tears, maybe denial, but not the truth that followed.
I spent three weeks planning David’s 35th birthday party.
The kitchen had become my war room, covered in lists and sample menus.
He’d been my best friend for a decade; I just wanted us to feel like that again.
Lately, our marriage had grown cold in a way I couldn’t quite name. David came home late, kissed me on the forehead instead of the lips, and disappeared into his office for hours.
The morning before the party, I stood at the counter with my industrial mixer whirring through chocolate frosting.
David sat at the breakfast bar, hunched over his phone, his jaw tight with concentration.
“Hey,” I said, wiping my hands on my apron. “Can you look at the menu one more time?
I want to make sure we’re not missing anything people might want.”
“David.”
“Yeah, babe. Sounds good.”
I turned off the mixer. “You didn’t hear what I said.”
He glanced up, irritation flickering across his face.
“Sorry. Work thing. I just need to send this update.”
I wanted to say something.
The words lined up in my throat, ready to march out and demand attention. But I swallowed them instead and went back to my frosting.
That’s when Elaine arrived. I heard her heels clicking down the hall before I saw her, and my shoulders tensed automatically.
“Marissa, darling.” She sailed into the kitchen, her gaze scanning the balloons tied to a chair and the cake cooling on the counter.
“It’s nice to see you trying for a change.”
I gripped my spatula. “Thanks, Elaine.”
“But really, men don’t care about all this fluff, dear. Isn’t that right, David?”
Elaine smiled like she’d just won an award.
“You should’ve spent your money on a hairdresser and nail tech instead of all this.”
“It’s his birthday, Elaine. I want it to feel special.”
Elaine sighed the way you sigh at a child who insists the sky is green.
“David, dear, there’s someone I want you to meet.
A potential client.” She pulled out her phone and started typing.
David’s head snapped up. “Really?”
“She’s a real estate agent who works with luxury properties. I’ll make the arrangements and let you know, okay?”
David left soon afterward, Elaine trailing behind him, still talking about potential clients and how much she wished he’d married a woman with connections.
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