My MIL and Mom Thought Setting My Husband and Me up with Our Exes Was a Great Idea but They Had No Idea What They Started — Story of the Day

I thought my marriage was solid until my MIL invited my husband’s ex to his birthday. Before I could react, my mom set me up with mine. I walked into a disaster I never saw coming—and that was just the beginning.

I always thought Alex and I had the perfect balance in our marriage. We weren’t one of those couples who fought over scattered socks or a coffee cup left on the table.

Our arguments never lasted more than an hour, and even then, they felt more like a warm-up for new jokes.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I had my own café—a small, cozy place where people could sit with a book, enjoy a homemade dessert, and escape the city’s chaos. Alex sometimes joked that my cappuccinos would bankrupt him, I knew he was proud of me.

Everything was great… until he came home with a strange smile one day.

I was scrolling through my phone when he sat down next to me and, almost proudly, announced:

“You won’t believe who Mom and I ran into today while we were out.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

By “out,” he meant dragging his mother around to buy things she absolutely didn’t need—a monthly ritual of theirs. A mother-and-son tradition.

Sounds nice, right?

And it would be… if MIL, Cynthia, didn’t turn those shopping trips into a full-scale circus performance, juggling antique trinkets that would later gather dust in her china cabinet.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

But Alex endured it all. Because, well, it was Mom.

“Aliens?” I smiled, pulling myself out of my thoughts about Cynthia.

“Amanda.”

My fingers froze over the screen. I slowly lifted my gaze.

“That Amanda?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Yeah.”

Amanda. His ex. The love of his youth. The girl who once thought she was “the one and only” in his life.

“Where did you run into her?”

“At a café.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

It was an unpleasant coincidence, but I exhaled. It happens. Just a random encounter.

“And how was the coffee?” I asked, lacing my voice with sarcasm.

“Oh, amazing! Because it was your café.”

“Oh, I’m so glad Amanda liked it. Makes opening it all worthwhile.”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

He nodded, completely missing my point.

“Oh, Mom was thrilled! They hadn’t seen each other in so long. And, well…”

“And what?”

“She invited her to my Birthday party.”

Fantastic. Just what I needed. Why couldn’t life stay the way it is?

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Oh, your mother is really on fire.”

“Babe, you’re not jealous, are you?”

The tea had already boiled over in my hand.

“Of course not. And what did you say to that?”

“Well… I couldn’t exactly say no. That would’ve been rude.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I wanted to scream: And did you think about asking ME?!”

But instead, I silently exhaled, swallowing the mix of emotions brewing inside me.

“Babe, don’t worry so much. It’s just a party. Just a guest.”

Is he really that naive, or is he just pretending?

I had a bad feeling about that. And, as it would turn out later, I was absolutely right.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

Alex’s birthday was always an event. Not because he cared much about celebrating. He would have been pleased with a quiet dinner and a slice of cake.

No, the real mastermind behind these annual extravaganzas was Cynthia, his mother.

For her, that was a grand showcase. A carefully curated spectacle. A chance to prove to the world she could throw a party magnificent.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I tried to prepare myself mentally, but nothing could have truly prepared me for what I saw when I stepped into the backyard.

There she was. Amanda.

She looked even better than I remembered. Moreover, she was seamlessly integrated into the party as if she had never left Alex’s life.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

They were standing side by side in front of a giant birthday cake.

What’s happening?

And then I saw the contest.

Of course, Cynthia had organized some ridiculous, over-the-top game. Alex and Amanda were paired in a “Who Can Eat Their Cake Faster Without Using Their Hands?” challenge.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I wanted to turn away. But I couldn’t.

Amanda laughed too hard, tilting her head down as Alex tried to beat her to the first bite. The whole thing looked… ridiculously playful.

“Oh, isn’t that adorable?” someone cooed behind me.

I turned my head slowly. It was my mother. Perfect timing.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Adorable?” I repeated, barely concealing my irritation.

“Well, they do look very… comfortable together.”

I swallowed my retort.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I ran into someone interesting the other day.”

I didn’t care. I didn’t want to care. But she knew me too well.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Who?”

“Nick.”

I turned my head fully toward her.

“You mean my ex?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Oh, don’t look so shocked, sweetheart.” She waved a dismissive hand. “You know, he’s doing exceptionally well these days. Owns his own company. Has some high-profile clients. And…”

“Please tell me you didn’t invite him to this party.”

She laughed. “Of course not! That would be inappropriate.”

I exhaled in relief.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“But,” she added, too casually, “he’s actually looking for a place to host networking events for his clients. And I thought, you know… your café might be perfect.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying—maybe you should meet with him. Discuss business. Make a smart move for your café.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t need his help.”

“Are you sure? I mean, look at Alex.”

I didn’t want to. But I did. And there it was: Amanda, laughing with my husband, holding a huge black cake I’d ordered for him.

I felt my irritation spike to a dangerous level.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I turned back to my mother, my voice suddenly much calmer than I felt.

“You know what? Fine. Set up the meeting.”

“Oh, wonderful! I knew you’d come around.”

I had no idea what I was getting myself into. But if Alex wanted to play that game, I’d play it too.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

***

I spent the following day mentally preparing myself for meeting with Nick.

I told myself it was strictly business. I reminded myself that I wasn’t doing this to prove a point.

I assured myself I wasn’t being petty or reacting emotionally to Amanda’s little flirtation circus at Alex’s birthday party.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

At least, that’s what I kept repeating like a mantra as I walked into the restaurant. And then I saw Nick. Smiling. Relaxed. Effortlessly confident in that way that used to drive me crazy years ago.

And suddenly, I wasn’t so sure about my mantra anymore. Damn it.

“Wow,” he said, giving me an appreciative once-over. “You look amazing.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Thanks. You, uh… still dress like a business magazine cover.”

He chuckled.

“Well, you know me. Always selling something.”

I sat across from him, trying to shake off the weird nostalgia and irritation that came with seeing him again.

He poured us both some tea and said, “So. Tell me about your café.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I started explaining my vision, how I wanted to make the café a hub for creative entrepreneurs, and how I planned to add live events, poetry readings, networking nights…

“Sounds incredible.”

I stopped mid-sentence. There was a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What?” I asked.

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“You. You’re still the same. Passionate. Determined. Always thinking big.”

“Well, some things don’t change.”

“Some do.”

I was about to steer the conversation back to strictly professional territory when a familiar voice cut through the restaurant noise like a knife.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Wow. Well, isn’t this cozy?”

I turned my head. There, standing just inside the restaurant entrance, were Alex and Amanda. My stomach dropped. Alex’s gaze flickered from me to Nick.

“Oh, what a crazy coincidence!” Amanda said, placing a hand on Alex’s arm. “You two know each other, right?”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

I stood up so fast that my chair nearly toppled over. Apparently enjoying the drama, Nick leaned back in his chair with a relaxed grin.

“Oh, we’re more than familiar.”

“You’re looking good, man,” he told Alex. “Married life must be treating you well.”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “It was. Until I walked in and saw my wife on what looked like a date.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, please! If anyone’s on a date here, it’s you two!” I gestured at Amanda.

She clutched her chest.

“Me? Oh, no, no, I’m just supporting Alex. As a friend.”

Alex let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, you’re a real saint, Amanda.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Nick clapped his hands together, clearly having the time of his life. “Well, this just got interesting.”

I whipped back around to face him.

“Nick, shut up.”

Amanda huffed. “You don’t need to be so defensive, darling. It’s not like you’re the only one who can enjoy an old friend’s company.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Oh. Oh, she did NOT just say that.

Without thinking, I grabbed my glass of orange juice and flung it directly at Amanda’s expensive silk blouse. She gasped, horrified.

Nick let out a loud laugh. Alex picked up his glass of water and threw it straight at Nick. Nick spluttered, soaking wet, and shot to his feet.

“Oh, you wanna play, buddy?” he said, reaching for the sauce bottle on the table.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“DON’T YOU DARE…” I started.

Too late. Before I could blink, barbecue sauce was flying through the air. The following five seconds were a complete disaster. By the time the chaos settled, the entire restaurant was dead silent.

“I. Am. Leaving,” Amanda declared, storming off in her stained designer dress.

Nick looked down at his soaked clothes, then at me.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“Well. This wasn’t exactly how I pictured our reunion.”

“You planned this?”

He winked. I groaned. Alex grabbed my hand.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here before someone calls the cops on us.”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I didn’t argue. We left the restaurant sticky, soaked, and absolutely done with the night. As we stepped onto the street, I glanced at Alex.

“We just got played, didn’t we?”

“Oh, 100%. And I have an extreme suspicion about who’s behind this.”

“Yeah. Our mothers.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

And just like that, everything started making sense.

Alex and I exchanged a knowing glance, the kind only two people could understand. A slow grin spread across my face as I wiped a streak of sauce from his cheek.

“We can’t let them get away with this.”

“Oh, absolutely not.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

We embraced and burst into laughter — sticky, soaked, and victorious. Because no matter what our mothers threw at us — our love wasn’t that easy to break.

At that very moment, our mothers probably enjoyed a peaceful dinner together at our house. Blissfully unaware of the little surprise we had prepared for them.

***

When we got home, our mothers were lounging on the couch, sipping wine, looking very pleased with themselves.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

“Oh, you’re back!” my mom beamed. “How was your evening?”

Alex and I exchanged a knowing look.

“Oh, life-changing,” I said, slipping off my jacket.

“What do you mean?”

Alex sighed heavily. “We’ve made a decision.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

Both moms leaned forward.

“We’re breaking up,” I announced.

Silence. Cynthia gasped. My mom clutched her chest.

“But wait,” Alex added, raising a hand. “There’s good news, too. We’re having a baby.”

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For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

Cynthia choked on her wine. My mom’s eyes bulged.

“You CAN’T break up if you’re having a baby!”

“Well, you two can co-parent.”

Alex nodded. “Or, you know… foster care.”

The horror on their faces was delicious.

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

“You… YOU WOULDN’T.”

“Oh, but you thought meddling in our marriage was fine?”

“We weren’t trying to ruin anything,” my mom muttered. “We just… read that book that said love only lasts three years. And well, your anniversary is coming up, and everything seemed so… calm.”

“So, naturally, you decided to light a match and throw it into our excellent relationship?” Alex asked.

Cynthia sighed, rubbing her temples. “We thought a little jealousy would… reignite the spark.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

I exchanged a look with Alex, half-amused, half-exasperated.

“Well, congrats. You gave us the messiest week of our lives.”

Alex chuckled. “But we’re still standing. Still together. And stronger than ever.”

“Well, now that we’re done with family drama,” I said, grabbing my coat, “how about we finally go eat? You two dragged us through so much that we never got dinner.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

For illustration purposes only | Source: Pexels

They perked up immediately. And as we all headed out together, I threw an arm around Alex.

“Oh, and by the way,” I added, “we’re sending you two on a weekend getaway. Somewhere far. Very far.”

Alex grinned.

“Think of it as a little break… from ruining our lives.”

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only | Source: Midjourney

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My MIL Gifted Me a Book, ‘100 Steps to Become a Good Wife for My Precious Son,’ So I Decided to Put an End to This — Story of the Day

On my wedding day, as vows were exchanged and love filled the air, Rick’s mother, Irene, found a way to steal the spotlight. From her dramatic interruption at the altar to gifting me a book, “How to Be a Good Wife for My Precious Son”, it was clear: she wasn’t ready to let me into her world—or her son’s.

I stood by the altar in my wedding dress, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me.

My fingers trembled slightly as I gripped the piece of paper with my vows, the edges soft and worn from nervous handling.

The air smelled faintly of roses and candles, and the faint rustle of silk from the guests’ outfits added a quiet hum to the room.

Across from me, Rick stood tall, his dark suit perfectly tailored to his broad frame.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His smile was warm, reassuring, and completely for me. I felt my heart swell as I met his gaze.

“If you’ve prepared your vows, please exchange them now,” the officiant said, his voice gentle but firm, breaking through the haze of my emotions.

I unfolded my paper, smoothing it out with care.

“Rick, I love you,” I began, my voice steady but laced with emotion. I could see his expression soften, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I wasn’t sure how to begin, but I decided to start with what’s most important.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

A small smile played on my lips, and Rick chuckled softly, that familiar sound that always made me feel at home.

“These past four years we’ve spent together have changed my life,” I continued, my voice growing steadier as I found my rhythm.

“I was afraid of losing my old life and drowning in a relationship, so I hesitated for a long time. You know how hard it is for me to take big steps…”

“But I’m so glad I took this step,” I said, my smile widening.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“I’m glad I’m standing here before you now. With you, I feel like I’m becoming the best version of myself. I love you, Rick.” My words hung in the air, heavy with sincerity.

There was a soft murmur of approval from the guests—subtle, but enough to remind me we weren’t alone in this moment.

“Samantha, I love you. You know I’m not one for long speeches,” he began, earning a light laugh from the crowd.

“So I’ll just say this: I’m happy you’re becoming my wife today. From now on, we’re a family, and family always sticks together.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The officiant smiled. “Samantha, do you take Rick to be your husband?”

“I do!” My voice rang out clearly.

“Rick, do you take Samantha to be your wife?”

“I do,” Rick said, his voice steady and full of conviction.

“If anyone here objects to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the officiant continued.

The room went still, the silence palpable. I felt my breath hitch. Then, to my horror, Irene stood up.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Of course, she couldn’t just let this be about us. She always had to make herself the center of attention.

“Sorry, I just needed to go to the bathroom. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” Irene said, her voice sugary sweet and her smile tight.

“Mom!” Rick snapped, clearly exasperated. He gestured for her to sit, his jaw tightening. Irene waved him off, taking her seat with an air of mock innocence.

I bit my tongue to stop myself from saying something I’d regret.

The officiant quickly regained control. “I now pronounce Samantha and Rick husband and wife!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The applause exploded, filling the room. Rick kissed me, his lips warm and full of love, and for a moment, the world felt perfect.

But as I glanced toward the guests, my eyes landed on Irene’s empty chair. It didn’t surprise me. Not one bit.

The reception was in full swing. Music filled the air, guests laughed, and the soft clinking of glasses blended into the hum of celebration.

I should’ve been floating on a cloud of happiness, surrounded by friends and family, but instead, my mood was sour.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

My thoughts were stuck on the ceremony, replaying Irene’s little stunt over and over.

“You know she did that on purpose…” I muttered to Rick, sitting close beside me.

Rick sighed, his patience already thinning.

“Sweetheart, that’s not true. My mom loves you and respects my choice. Don’t make things up.”

“Loves me so much she couldn’t even wait a single minute until the ceremony was over? Seriously, Rick?” I shot back, keeping my voice low but firm.

“She’s an older woman. She probably really needed to go,” Rick argued, his tone defensive. “Or would you have preferred she… handled it right there in the hall?”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

His eyebrows rose slightly, as if that was the ultimate argument-ender.

“Rick! Enough!” I snapped, crossing my arms. How could he be so blind to her little games?

At that moment, as if summoned by our discussion, Irene approached our table. Her face was stretched into that same overly sweet smile she always wore, the one that made my skin crawl.

“My dear son,” she said warmly, wrapping Rick in a hug. “Congratulations on your big day. I hope Samantha will take good care of you and that you’ll be happy!”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Thanks, Mom,” Rick replied, grinning as if she hadn’t just insulted me in the guise of kindness.

Irene then turned to me, her smile never wavering, and handed me a small, neatly wrapped package.

I stared at it, reluctant to take it.

I peeled back the paper slowly, my stomach twisting with dread. When the cover of the book came into view, my chest tightened.

“How to Be a Good Wife for My Precious Son,” it read, in a perfectly polished font. I froze, staring at the title.

It even had her name printed below: “By Irene.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

My teeth clenched so hard I thought I might chip them. I forced a polite smile, but my hands were shaking.

“What’s this, Mom?” Rick asked, grabbing the book from me and flipping through the pages.

“Oh, nothing,” Irene said with a casual wave of her hand.

“I just thought Samantha could use a little guidance and advice.”

Rick, oblivious as ever, grinned.

“Oh, wow! It even has my favorite cookie recipe from when I was a kid! Mom, did you print this book yourself?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“All for my beloved son!” Irene chirped.

“Thank you, Irene,” I said through gritted teeth, somehow summoning the strength to be civil. “I’ll be sure to study this book carefully.”

“Samantha, don’t be mad,” Rick added, his tone almost scolding. “It’s a wonderful gift. Mom put so much effort into it.”

“Uh-huh,” I muttered, forcing a tight smile. Inside, I was screaming. But this wasn’t the time or place. Not yet.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Married life felt like a dream at first.

The days were filled with stolen kisses in the kitchen, whispered promises late at night, and the kind of laughter that made everything else fade away.

For a week, it was just us—our own little world, untouched by anything else.

But like a crack in glass, that perfect world fractured with one name: Irene.

“My mom’s coming over for dinner tonight,” Rick said casually while scrolling through his phone.

I froze, spatula mid-air. “What? Why?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He looked up, confused. “She’s my mom. Why can’t she just visit?”

“So she’s just coming for a visit?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“Well… she wanted to cook dinner for us.”

I let out a sharp laugh. “So she thinks I can’t cook dinner myself?”

Rick sighed, already weary of this conversation. “Of course not! She just wants to help…”

“Oh, help me be a good wife for her precious son…” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Samantha! You’re misunderstanding again!” he snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“No, I understand perfectly,” I said firmly. “Your mom hates me and uses every excuse to meddle. What time is she coming?”

Rick hesitated. “In a couple of hours.”

“Good,” I said, already standing. “That gives me time to prepare.”

For the next two hours, I moved through the house like a storm—cleaning, cooking, and setting the table with meticulous care.

If Irene wanted a show, I was going to give her one. And I had a little surprise in mind, too.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The doorbell rang, echoing through the house, and I felt my shoulders tense. Rick hurried to open it, his face lighting up as he greeted her.

“Mom!” he said warmly, pulling her into a hug.

I stood a few steps behind, forcing a polite smile. “Welcome, Irene,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Irene replied with a saccharine smile. “We’re family now. This is my home too.”

“As you say,” I murmured, stepping aside as she waltzed into the living room like she owned the place.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Her eyes immediately fell on the dining table, perfectly set and laden with food.

“So, you’ve already prepared everything?” she said, her voice tinged with disappointment.

“What a shame—I was hoping to cook myself…”

“There’s no need,” I replied calmly. “I’ve taken care of everything.”

“Well, we’ll see,” she said, her tone as sharp as a knife, before sitting down at the table.

She scanned the spread, her gaze landing on the soup. “Oh, is this tomato soup from my book? You’re already trying out the recipes?”

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For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Yes, very useful recipes, thank you. But I made a few improvements…”

“Improvements?” she repeated, her voice rising indignantly.

Rick, oblivious to the tension, took a big spoonful and groaned in delight. “Oh my gosh, Samantha, this is the best tomato soup I’ve ever had!”

Irene’s smile faltered. “And my cupcakes…” she muttered under her breath as Rick continued eating enthusiastically.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Her displeasure was written all over her face, and I knew this was my moment. Rick went to the bathroom, and that was the moment I’d waited for to launch my plan.

“Irene,” I began, smiling sweetly, “your book inspired me so much that I wanted to repay your kindness.”

I picked up the remote and clicked a button. The projector on the wall flickered to life, displaying bold letters:

“How to Mind Your Own Business.”

“Today I proved that I’m more than capable of running my home and taking care of my husband. Irene, I appreciate your advice, but I’ll handle my life on my own terms.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Irene shot up from her seat, her face red with anger. “You’re not fit to be my son’s wife! And you know it!”

“Mom! How can you say that?” Rick walked inside the room, stunned.

“Rick, you know it’s true,” Irene snapped. “She’s not worthy of you.”

“Mom, enough!” Rick’s voice was firm now.

“I love Samantha, and you’ll accept my choice, whether you like it or not. I think it’s time for you to go home. I’ll call you a taxi.”

“Fine, dear…” Irene said with a huff, finally relenting.

I nodded silently, my heart pounding. For once, I felt victorious. In this battle for boundaries, I had finally taken a stand—and won.

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