Where Love Falters in the Smallest Things

For our third anniversary, I asked my husband for something simple: just us. No family dinners, no distractions—just a quiet evening to celebrate the two of us. He smiled and promised it would be special.

But when we arrived at the restaurant, my heart sank. His mom, dad, sister, and cousin—with her kids—were already seated at the table. Balloons bobbed above their heads. Laughter filled the air. But inside, I felt heavy.

I had been clear. I didn’t want a party. I wanted presence.

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