For our third anniversary, I told my husband I wanted it to be just us. No family gatherings, no interruptions — just a quiet night to celebrate the two of us. He agreed, smiling, and promised it would be special.But when we arrived at the restaurant, my heart sank. Sitting at the table were his mom, dad, sister, and cousin with her kids. Balloons and laughter filled the air, but inside I felt heavy. I had been clear about what I wanted, yet here we were — another “family” event on what was supposed to be our day.
I stood frozen, not out of shyness, but out of disappointment. He nudged me forward, whispering, “Come on, they’re waiting.” His family smiled, but their eyes searched my face. And in that moment, I realized something: it wasn’t about them. It was about him — and the fact that he didn’t hear me, didn’t honor what I asked for.