Husband Went to Friend’s Wedding for 3 Days, Leaving Me and Kids $20 — He Fell to His Knees after What He Saw upon Returning

Iris’s husband left her and the kids with a meager $20 for three days while he attended a wedding alone. Frustrated and desperate, she made a bold move to teach him a lesson. When he returned, the sight before him made him fall to his knees and burst into tears.

Hey there! Iris here. My life isn’t all sunshine and roses, even though it might seem that way from the outside. I’m a stay-at-home mom, juggling an eight-year-old firecracker named Ollie and a sassy six-year-old princess, Sophie…

My husband, Paul, works a stable job and brings home the bacon, or rather the chicken these days. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a fantastic dad, showers the kids with gifts, and makes sure we have everything we need.

But here’s the thing, after our second child, things shifted. Paul started focusing more on work and less on us. Gone were the days of spontaneous movie nights or romantic dinners. Now, whenever I’d suggest something, it’d always be “work stress” or needing “me time.” I brushed it off initially, but lately, it’s been gnawing at me.

A man heading to office | Source: Pexels

A man heading to office | Source: Pexels

Last week, something happened that threw a wrench into our already strained relationship. Paul came home early, beaming, announcing a half-day off for his friend Alex’s wedding. He said he would be gone for three days.

A spark of excitement ignited in me! Maybe this could be our little escape, a few days away from the constant demands of motherhood and household. But my balloon of hope quickly popped when I found out ONLY HE was invited.

Iris is so thrilled, only to be shattered moments later | Source: Midjourney

Iris is so thrilled, only to be shattered moments later | Source: Midjourney

“Why not me?” I pouted, disappointment clouding my voice.

Paul explained that Alex was a “bit strange” and wanted a close-knit gathering without partners. Now, that struck me as odd.

“Are there any single women attending?” I probed, biting my nails, a nervous habit I just can’t seem to kick.

An annoyed man | Source: Pexels

An annoyed man | Source: Pexels

Paul furrowed his brows, his mood shifting from casual to irritated. “Iris, come on,” he mumbled, and sensing his annoyance, I backtracked with a playful, “Just kidding! Stay away from those single ladies, alright?!”

Big mistake. He took it as a full-blown accusation, and before you know it, we were embroiled in a massive fight. Paul accused me of being suspicious, of dictating his every move. He even started lecturing me on the “secrets to a strong relationship,” making me feel like a paranoid control freak.

A furious man | Source: Pexels

A furious man | Source: Pexels

But hey, I wasn’t completely wrong, was I? I snapped, reminding him how he constantly prioritized his “me time” with friends, leaving me home alone with the kids.

“I want to enjoy life too, Paul!” I yelled, tears welling up in my eyes. “What’s the point of all this money if you’re never here?”

That’s when things got scary. Paul was practically glaring daggers at me. Then, in a move that left me speechless, he pulled out a measly $20 bill.

Man holding $20 | Source: Freepik

Man holding $20 | Source: Freepik

“Here,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “if you don’t need my money, run the house on this for three days while I’m gone!”

He shoved the cash into my hand and stormed out of the house before I could utter another word. My jaw hung slack, anger and disbelief swirling inside me. Did he seriously think I could run a household with three hungry members on a meager $20? The audacity!

Iris is visibly shaken | Source: Midjourney

Iris is visibly shaken | Source: Midjourney

Tears threatening to spill, I raced to the fridge, clinging to a sliver of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was enough food to last for three days.

But as I swung open the door, my heart sank. The fridge was practically bare, containing only a row of Ollie’s brightly colored juice boxes, a lone pickle, and less than a dozen eggs. This wasn’t going to work. We needed groceries, and with only $20, I felt completely stranded.

A nearly empty refrigerator | Source: Pexels

A nearly empty refrigerator | Source: Pexels

Anger simmered within me. Paul knew our financial situation; I didn’t have any hidden stash of cash. He was deliberately trying to make a point, and guess what? It backfired. Now, I was determined to get revenge, to make him understand the struggle I faced every single day. But how?

My gaze darted around the room, landing on the glass cabinet where Paul kept his prized collection of antique coins. They were like trophies to him, each one with a story, some dating back to his great-grandfather’s era.

An assortment of antique coins on display | Source: Midjourney

An assortment of antique coins on display | Source: Midjourney

An evil glint flickered in my eyes. Maybe these could be the key to getting some groceries and teaching my husband a little lesson.

My heart raced as I reached for the glass cabinet. Guilt gnawed at the edges of my determination, but the image of the empty fridge and Paul’s flippant challenge fueled me.

With trembling hands, I gathered the coins, their smooth surfaces cold against my skin. Each clink against the glass echoed in the room, a tiny betrayal chipping away at my conscience.

Iris gathers the antique coins | Source: Midjourney

Iris gathers the antique coins | Source: Midjourney

Ignoring the rising tide of guilt, I raced to the local antique shop, a place I’d only ever admired from afar. The owner, a wiry man with a silver goatee, squinted at the coins through a magnifying glass.

My breath hitched in my throat. Would these even sell? But then, his voice, gruff but surprisingly cheerful, broke the tense silence. “Seven hundred dollars,” he announced, his eyes twinkling.

An antique store owner inspecting the coins | Source: Midjourney

An antique store owner inspecting the coins | Source: Midjourney

Relief washed over me so intense it felt like I could breathe again. “Sold!” I blurted, practically shoving the coins into his surprised hands.

The guilt, however, resurfaced with a vengeance as I clutched the wad of cash. This wasn’t just revenge anymore; it was a betrayal of Paul’s trust. But the thought of my children’s hungry faces spurred me on.

Woman counting cash | Source: Pexels

Woman counting cash | Source: Pexels

With a spring in my step, I stormed to the grocery store, filling my cart with mountains of fresh produce, enough meat to last a week, and a mountain of treats for the kids.

A part of me reveled in the freedom of not having to check the price tags, but a larger part ached for the trust I’d shattered.

As I unpacked the groceries back home, humming along to a classic playing on the gramophone, a dark shadow of apprehension loomed over me. How would Paul react when he saw his beloved coins missing?

Woman grocery shopping | Source: Unsplash

Woman grocery shopping | Source: Unsplash

I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the delicious aroma of the chicken casserole wafting from the oven. Tonight, dinner would be a feast fit for a king, or rather, a queen!

Three days crawled by, each minute stretching into an eternity. The silence in the house was deafening without Paul’s usual grumbles or the constant barrage of questions from the kids. Just as despair started to creep in, the sound of a car pulling into the driveway jolted me back to life.

A car outside the house | Source: Unsplash

A car outside the house | Source: Unsplash

I raced to the window, peeking through the blinds. There stood Paul, a sight that sent chills down my spine.

A wide, almost manic grin stretched across his face, completely out of character. In his arms, he cradled two grocery bags, overflowing with fresh produce and what looked like enough fruit to feed a small army.

Man holding a grocery bag | Source: Freepik

Man holding a grocery bag | Source: Freepik

This wasn’t the sight I’d braced myself for. This was… uncanny. My heart pounded as Paul practically skipped towards the front door, whistling a cheerful tune.

The door flung open and he barreled in. “Iris, my love!” he boomed, his voice uncharacteristically loud. “You won’t believe the deals I found! Fresh strawberries for half the price, and look at these juicy mangoes!” He thrust the bags at me, his eyes sparkling with a manic glint.

A cheerful man smiling | Source: Pexels

A cheerful man smiling | Source: Pexels

I stood frozen, the groceries a heavy weight in my suddenly numb arms. “Paul…” I stammered.

He didn’t seem to hear me. He launched into a torrent of apologies, each one delivered with an unsettling enthusiasm. He confessed his wrongs, admitted the stinginess, and swore he wouldn’t leave me stranded again.

A startled, teary-eyed woman | Source: Pexels

A startled, teary-eyed woman | Source: Pexels

Then, his eyes darted towards the trophy case. His smile faltered, replaced by a dawning horror. He took a hesitant step towards the glass cabinet, then another, his movements slow and deliberate.

My breath hitched in my throat. In the heart-stopping silence, the click of his shoes against the hardwood floor echoed like a death knell. He reached out, his hand hovering over the empty space where his prized coin collection once resided.

An extremely heartbroken man | Source: Pexels

An extremely heartbroken man | Source: Pexels

The world seemed to slow down. Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. Shame, guilt, and a crushing fear coiled in my gut. Paul’s joy had evaporated, replaced by a chilling stillness.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t scream. He simply crumpled to his knees and burst into tears, saying, “MY COINS??!”

An extremely upset man bursting into tears | Source: Pexels

An extremely upset man bursting into tears | Source: Pexels

The sound shattered the suffocating silence, and a torrent of apologies spilled from my lips, each one a desperate attempt to mend the damage I’d done. But Paul remained silent, his face crumpled with a profound hurt that pierced my soul.

Without another word, he rose to his feet, a haunted look in his eyes as he walked past me. Just as he reached the door, he turned back one last time, his gaze locking onto mine. It was a look of utter betrayal, a silent scream that spoke volumes.

A sad man's eyes filled with heartbreak and disbelief | Source: Unsplash

A sad man’s eyes filled with heartbreak and disbelief | Source: Unsplash

Then, with a quiet click of the doorknob, he was gone.

Tears streamed down my face, each one a bitter drop of regret. I had a mess to fix, and it was entirely of my own making.

I raced to the nearest pawnshop. There, under the harsh fluorescent lights, I surrendered my late grandmother’s ring, a precious heirloom gifted on my wedding day. The money it fetched was enough to cover all the coins.

Woman holding a diamond ring | Source: Pexels

Woman holding a diamond ring | Source: Pexels

I sprinted back to the antique shop, the money clutched tightly in my sweaty palms. The bell above the shop door chimed as I burst in. The owner, thankfully, recognized me.

“Can I help you again?” he inquired, his bushy eyebrows raised in surprise.

My face turned crimson as I spoke. “Actually, I’d like to buy the coins back.”

The antique shop owner recognizes Iris | Source: Midjourney

The antique shop owner recognizes Iris | Source: Midjourney

He squinted at me, a shrewd glint in his eyes. “Buy them back? You just sold them to me three days ago.”

“Yes, I know,” I confessed, my voice thick with shame. “It’s a long story, but it was a foolish mistake,” My voice cracked. “I just… I need them back. Please.”

A desperate and teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash

A desperate and teary-eyed woman | Source: Unsplash

The gruff man softened slightly. He studied me for a long moment, then sighed. “Alright, tell you what,” he said, “Since you’re the original seller, I’ll give you a discount. But it won’t be the same price you sold them for.”

Relief washed over me like a tidal wave. “I understand,” I rasped, tears welling up again. “Anything you ask, I’ll pay it.”

Iris pleads with the antique store owner | Source: Midjourney

Iris pleads with the antique store owner | Source: Midjourney

The transaction was swift, and moments later, I was clutching the familiar weight of the coins in my bag. My pulse quickened. Would it be enough to mend the broken trust?

The walk home was a blur. Every passing second felt like an eternity. As I reached into the driveway, my stomach churned with nervous butterflies. The house was eerily silent.

Paul wasn’t home yet.

Iris manages to get Paul's antique coins back | Source: Midjourney

Iris manages to get Paul’s antique coins back | Source: Midjourney

I walked towards the glass cabinet and carefully arranged the coins back in their rightful places.

When I finished, a small smile bloomed on my face. “I did it!” I exclaimed. When Paul returned home, I turned to him, my heart pounding in my chest.

“There,” I whispered, pointing at the trophy case. “They’re back!”

Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Then, a single tear rolled down Paul’s cheek.

Iris retrieves Paul's beloved antique coin collection | Source: Midjourney

Iris retrieves Paul’s beloved antique coin collection | Source: Midjourney

“Iris,” he finally spoke, his voice hoarse. “We need to talk.”

The knot in my stomach tightened. “Yes,” I choked out, tears welling up in my eyes again. “We do.”

We talked for hours that night. We spoke of our frustrations, our unspoken needs, and the chasm that had grown between us over time. The conversation was raw, painful, and ultimately, necessary.

Iris is relieved | Source: Midjourney

Iris is relieved | Source: Midjourney

There were no easy answers. Trust, once broken, takes time and effort to rebuild. But as we sat there, holding onto each other, a fragile peace settled between us.

The ordeal with the coins had been a catalyst, a wake-up call that forced us to confront the cracks in our relationship. We learned a harsh lesson — communication, not revenge, is the key to a strong marriage.

Couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

Couple holding hands | Source: Pexels

That day, I realized that misunderstandings and arguments are inevitable, but it’s crucial to resolve them rather than escalate. Every family faces challenges that test their strength and make them stronger.

I also learned the importance of trust in a relationship and vowed never to doubt my husband’s loyalty, even in jest. They say “a happy wife is a happy life,” but both partners deserve happiness. In a healthy relationship, happiness should be a shared journey, not a prize for one.

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

A happy woman smiling | Source: Pexels

In the days that followed, we started rebuilding, brick by brick. It was slow, messy work, but we were committed to making it work. We realized that a happy marriage wasn’t a destination, but a journey — a journey we were determined to navigate together, hand in hand.

A peaceful couple | Source: Unsplash

A peaceful couple | Source: Unsplash

Here’s another story: When Josephine found an ordinary bottle of men’s hair lotion in her bathroom, little did she know it would reveal a shocking truth about her bald husband and shatter their 20-year marriage.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

I Cooked a Festive Dinner for 20 People for My Husband’s Birthday — Then He Ditched Me to Celebrate at a Bar

I thought I was being a good wife, throwing a festive dinner for my husband Todd’s 35th birthday. But just as the guests were about to arrive, he told me he was ditching the party to watch the game at a bar. What happened next? Let’s just say, I got the last laugh.

You’d think six years of marriage would teach someone a little gratitude, but not Todd. Every year, I’d pour my heart and soul into his birthday, only for him to take it all for granted.

This year, though, his entitlement hit a whole new level.

A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A man standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Six years. That’s how long Todd and I have been married.

Don’t get me wrong, our relationship isn’t all bad. Todd can be charming when he wants to be, and we’ve had some wonderful times together. But there’s one thing about him that drives me absolutely up the wall.

His entitlement.

Take last Thanksgiving, for example. Todd had this brilliant idea to host a dinner for both of our families. He announced it at breakfast one day, grinning like he’d solved world hunger.

Breakfast on a table | Source: Pexels

Breakfast on a table | Source: Pexels

“Claire,” he said, “I think we should host Thanksgiving this year.”

“Okay,” I replied. “That sounds nice. How are we dividing up the responsibilities?”

He waved me off like I’d just asked him to do a headstand.

“Oh, you’re so much better at that stuff,” he said. “I’ll handle… I don’t know, drinks or something. Just make it memorable, alright?”

I should’ve known better, but I went along with it.

For two weeks, I planned and prepped while Todd played fantasy football and occasionally asked me, “You need me to pick up anything?”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

On the big day, I roasted the turkey, whipped up sides, and even made two pies.

And Todd? He carried the cooler of beer into the living room. That’s it.

After dinner, as everyone raved about the food and decor, Todd decided it was time to take credit for everything.

“Glad you all love it,” he said. “I wanted it to be special this year.”

I thought I’d misheard him.

“Oh, really?” I asked. “What part did you want special? The green bean casserole or the centerpiece?”

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her living room | Source: Midjourney

He ignored me, of course.

And that’s Todd in a nutshell. He wants the credit without lifting a finger.

Then there was last year on his birthday.

I spent weeks creating a customized photo album, filling it with pictures from our travels and special moments together. I couldn’t wait to see his reaction when he unwrapped it.

But when he was done flipping through the pages, he just said, “Oh. So, where’s the real gift?”

It wasn’t just his words that hurt. It was the sheer audacity.

A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her husband | Source: Midjourney

I’d married a man who once wrote me poetry, and now he couldn’t appreciate a heartfelt gesture. That moment shattered something in me.

It made me realize he wasn’t the man I’d fallen for anymore.

And then came his 35th birthday. The final straw.

We were having dinner when Todd casually told me his plans.

“Claire, I want a big, proper birthday dinner this year,” he said. “Invite the family, my buddies, everyone.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You mean you want me to plan it?”

A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney

“Well, yeah,” he said. “You’re good at this stuff. Just make it decent, alright? I don’t want to be embarrassed in front of everyone.”

“Decent?” I repeated.

“Yeah, just don’t go overboard or anything. Keep it classy.”

You see the entitlement here? See the way he thinks he deserves a birthday party while knowing how he’d hurt me with his words last time?

Honestly, I didn’t want to agree, but I decided to give him another chance. After all, it was his birthday, and I wanted to make it special even if he didn’t deserve it.

A close-up shot of a woman's eyes | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a woman’s eyes | Source: Midjourney

For the next two weeks, I threw myself into planning Todd’s “big, proper birthday dinner.” If he wanted classy, I’d give him classy.

I drafted an impressive menu that had spinach-stuffed chicken, rosemary potatoes, a charcuterie board with cheeses I couldn’t pronounce, and a three-layer chocolate cake that would be the pièce de résistance.

Every day after work, I’d come home, tie my hair up, and get to work cleaning, organizing, and prepping. I even borrowed extra chairs and a folding table from our neighbor, Janice, just to make sure everyone would have a seat.

Todd’s contribution? Absolutely nothing.

A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels

A woman cleaning the house | Source: Pexels

“I’m swamped at work,” he said one night, kicking off his shoes and plopping onto the couch. “But you’ve got this, babe. You’re good at these things.”

Good at these things? I was so tired I could’ve cried.

But instead of snapping, I smiled and said, “Yeah, I’ve got this.”

The day of the party finally arrived.

I woke up early, determined to make everything perfect.

A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in the hallway | Source: Midjourney

The house was spotless. The table was set with matching linens and little name cards I’d handwritten. The appetizers were chilling, the main courses simmering, and the cake was decorated with edible gold flakes.

Yes, I went that far.

Todd strolled into the kitchen around noon, scrolling through his phone as usual. He barely glanced at the spread I’d laid out.

“Looks good,” he muttered as he opened the fridge to grab a soda.

“Looks good?” I repeated, half-joking but half-hoping he’d notice the effort I’d put in.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah,” he said, shutting the fridge door. Then, like it was no big deal, he added, “But hey, uh, don’t bother finishing all this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m heading to the bar with the guys to watch the game instead. Cancel everything. Tell everyone something came up.”

“You’re ditching your own birthday dinner?” I asked. “Todd, I’ve been planning this for weeks!”

“It’s not a big deal, Claire,” he shrugged it off. “Just call everyone and tell them we’re busy or something. They’ll understand.”

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney

“They’ll understand?” My voice rose. “Todd, people are already on their way! You told me to make this decent and now you’re leaving?”

“I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the guys,” he said, ending the conversation.

Then, he grabbed his jacket and walked out of the door.

“You can’t do this, Todd!” I shouted, but he’d already left.

I was so heartbroken. I’d poured my heart, soul, and savings into this dinner, and he just walked out like it was nothing.

A woman looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking outside the window | Source: Midjourney

Cancel everything? After all the work I’d done?

But more than anything, I felt humiliated.

How could he treat me like this? How could he brush off all my efforts as if they didn’t matter?

I stared at the table while the candles flickered mockingly.

Is this what you’re worth, Claire? I asked myself. Is this how you’ll let Todd treat you? No. You can’t do this.

At that point, I decided I wouldn’t cancel the dinner. I won’t allow him to make me feel bad again.

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney

If Todd wanted to act like a spoiled brat, I’d let him, but not without showing him what “embarrassing” really looked like. He had no idea who he was messing with.

I grabbed my phone and sent a group text to all the guests:

Party’s still on! Change of plans. Meet us at the bar on the main street near our place. Bring your appetite!

Then, I got to work.

I packed all the food and loaded it into the car. Then, I drove straight to the bar Todd had mentioned.

A woman driving | Source: Pexels

A woman driving | Source: Pexels

When I arrived, the place was already buzzing with noise. I looked around and spotted Todd sitting at a table with his buddies, his back to the door. He was completely oblivious to my presence.

“Uh, ma’am? Can I help you?” the bartender asked with wide eyes after noticing the trays of food I was carrying.

I flashed him my sweetest smile. “Oh, I’m just here to share a meal with some people who’ll actually appreciate it.”

A woman standing in a bar | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in a bar | Source: Midjourney

I picked a table near the bar, in full view of Todd’s group, and began unpacking dish after dish. The aroma of the food quickly caught everyone’s attention. Patrons nearby craned their necks to see what was going on.

“What’s this about?” one man asked, gesturing toward the feast I was setting up.

I raised my voice just enough to carry across the room. “Oh, this was supposed to be my husband’s birthday dinner. But he decided to ditch me and come here, so I thought, why let all this food go to waste?”

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

The room erupted in murmurs and laughter, and a few people even clapped. That’s when Todd finally turned around and spotted me.

He immediately stormed over while his buddies murmured amongst themselves.

“Claire! What the hell are you doing?” he hissed, his eyes darting nervously between me and the growing crowd.

I didn’t even look at him.

Instead, I addressed the nearest group of patrons. “You like ham? Help yourselves! There’s cake coming too.”

A close-up shot of food in a plate | Source: Pexels

A close-up shot of food in a plate | Source: Pexels

Just as Todd sputtered out another protest, the front door swung open, and in walked his parents, my parents, his sister, and our cousins.

They looked at us, then at the food, and then at all the people munching on what was supposed to be a formal dinner.

Todd’s mom, bless her bluntness, walked right up to him. “What’s going on, Todd? Claire said to meet here for your birthday dinner, but why is she serving food in a bar?”

An older woman | Source: Midjourney

An older woman | Source: Midjourney

Todd looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.

“Uh, it’s complicated, Mom,” he muttered.

“Oh, I’d love to explain!” I intervened. “Todd decided that watching the game with his friends was more important than the dinner he demanded I plan. So, I brought the dinner to him!”

His dad shook his head. “How disrespectful,” he muttered.

Meanwhile, my mom grabbed a plate and said, “Well, the food smells amazing. Let’s eat!”

A woman in a bar | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a bar | Source: Midjourney

Soon, both our families joined the other patrons and dug into the feast I’d worked so hard on.

And Todd’s friends? They were still laughing at his expense and told him they’ll never forget this day.

By the time I brought out the cake, the bar felt like a full-blown party. On top of the cake, in bold frosting letters, I had written:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SELFISH HUSBAND!

The bar erupted in laughter when I read it aloud, but Todd wasn’t too happy about that.

A man laughing | Source: Pexels

A man laughing | Source: Pexels

“Was this really necessary, Claire?” he muttered under his breath.

I tilted my head, smiling sweetly. “Absolutely.”

Once everyone was done, I started packing up the empty trays. That’s when the bartender stopped me.

“Ma’am, you’re a legend,” he said. “Drinks on the house if you ever come back. Without him, of course!”

I chuckled. “Thank you! I’ll definitely drop by sometime.”

The families didn’t stick around long after the food was gone. My dad gave me a proud nod as he left, while Todd’s mom told him he could’ve done better.

An older woman speaking to her son | Source: Midjourney

An older woman speaking to her son | Source: Midjourney

As we drove back home, Todd kept muttering about being “humiliated.” Once we were back, he protested even more.

“Claire, you humiliated me in front of everyone!” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

“No, Todd,” I shot back. “You humiliated yourself. And for the record, don’t expect another homemade meal anytime soon.”

He knew he couldn’t argue with me at that point. He just turned around and stormed off to the bedroom.

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

A doorknob | Source: Pexels

It’s been two weeks since that night, and I kid you not, Todd has changed. Well, mostly.

His unrealistic demands have dialed down, and he’s been unusually polite, almost as if he’s afraid I’ll pull another stunt like that. He hasn’t apologized outright for ditching me, but his sheepish behavior says enough.

I guess now he knows I’m not the kind of wife who’ll roll over and take his nonsense anymore. If nothing else, that’s a win in my book.

A woman standing by a window | Source: Pexels

A woman standing by a window | Source: Pexels

What would you have done if you were in my shoes?

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