Planning a romantic anniversary? I’m Ava, and my third with Noah turned into a family fiasco under his mom’s influence. I’d asked for a quiet evening, and he promised, “Just us, Ava,” with a hug. After two years of group events, I was firm. He agreed with a grin.
I wore a chic navy dress, gift ready, thrilled for our dinner. At the cozy eatery, I stepped into a crowd—Noah’s mom, dad, sister, and uncles, with a “Happy Anniversary” banner. My chest tightened. Noah said, “Smile, we’ll do our night later,” but I left, heels tapping. In the parking lot, he begged, “Don’t be rude!” I said, “You broke your word.”
His mom joined, “It’s family, dear,” but I called a cab. Her text blamed my “tantrum.” Unsure, I invited them for dinner, making Noah’s favorite stew. Two tables awaited: one warm for the family, one small for his mom and him with a photo and sign, “Mom and Her Heart Seat Only.” “Your table’s ready,” I smiled.
His mom laughed, but Noah fidgeted as we dined. Later, he texted, “This was spiteful—we’re done.” I replied, “I’m done adjusting for you. Goodbye.” With coffee, I felt peace. I gave him a therapist list—he started, set boundaries with his mom, and earned my trust back. Six months later, we vacationed alone—share this for love lessons!
