My Husband Insisted on Cooking the Turkey This Year – What He Did to It Made Me Question Our Marriage

When Jake insists on cooking Thanksgiving turkey for the first time, Jen is skeptical but supportive until the result is a culinary disaster no one at the table can ignore. But the real shock comes when she discovers the recipe isn’t Jake’s. As tensions simmer and doubts creep in, she’s forced to confront the cracks in their marriage. This Thanksgiving, the turkey isn’t the only thing leaving a bad aftertaste.

Thanksgiving has always been my domain. I’m not saying I’m Martha Stewart in any way, but the turkey? That’s my masterpiece.

So when Jake, my husband of six years, announced he’d be taking the reins this year, I was caught off guard.

A woman standing in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“This year, I’m cooking the turkey,” he declared over dinner one night, his tone brimming with confidence.

“I’ve got a secret recipe, Jen…”

I smiled at him, though something about the way he said secret made my stomach do a little flip.

“Alright,” I said, keeping my tone light. “I’ll put my feet up, maybe do my nails. Just let me know if you need any help.”

A man sitting at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting at a dinner table | Source: Midjourney

“I won’t,” he shot back quickly.

Too quickly.

“This is going to be special.”

Jake’s always been eager to impress. At work, with his friends, his mother — especially his mother. And Patricia’s the type of woman who finds fault in compliments. She’d call the Mona Lisa “a little boring.”

A woman drinking a glass of wine | Source: Midjourney

A woman drinking a glass of wine | Source: Midjourney

The morning of Thanksgiving, Jake was a man possessed. He’d woken up early to prep, shooing me out of the kitchen before I could even pour my coffee.

“I’ve got it under control,” he chirped.

Patricia, perched at the counter with her ever-present glass of wine, raised a skeptical eyebrow.

A coffee machine | Source: Midjourney

A coffee machine | Source: Midjourney

“Jen, are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked me, her voice dripping with faux concern. “You’ve always done the turkey so well.”

“It’ll be fine,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.

Hours later, Jake emerged from the kitchen with our Thanksgiving centerpiece. To his credit, it looked perfect. Golden-brown, glistening, straight out of a food magazine or blog. He had even made roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, and a thick gravy.

A Thanksgiving turkey | Source: Midjourney

A Thanksgiving turkey | Source: Midjourney

My mom clapped enthusiastically. Patricia tilted her head, inspecting it like a jeweler appraising a diamond.

“It smells amazing!” my mom gushed.

We gathered around the table, Jake beaming as he carved the first slice. Music was being played, plates were passed, and soon everyone had a helping. I cut into mine, ready to be caught off guard by the delicious meal.

People sitting around a table | Source: Midjourney

People sitting around a table | Source: Midjourney

The moment it hit my tongue, I gagged.

“What the…?” I coughed, reaching for my water.

It wasn’t savory. It wasn’t even remotely turkey-like. It was sweet. Sickeningly, cloyingly sweet, like someone had glazed it with melted candy or something.

“Jake,” I managed, staring at him in disbelief. “What is this?”

A woman holding a napkin to her mouth | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a napkin to her mouth | Source: Midjourney

Patricia, mid-chew, spat hers into a napkin with dramatic flair.

“Oh, Jake. Oh no.”

Jake’s face flushed red.

“It’s a glaze!” he said defensively. “Brown sugar, maple syrup, and marshmallow fluff. It’s different! It’s creative!”

A woman holding napkin to her mouth | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding napkin to her mouth | Source: Midjourney

“Creative?” I echoed. “It tastes like someone dropped a turkey in a vat of something at Willy Wonka’s factory.”

The room fell silent. My brother-in-law, Steven, stifled a laugh. My mom pretended to focus on her mashed potatoes. Patricia, never one to miss an opportunity, shook her head with a dramatic sigh.

“This is why we don’t mess with tradition, Jake. Since you got married, Jen’s been the turkey girl. Tradition, Jake. Tradition.”

A woman sitting at a table with a glass of wine | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting at a table with a glass of wine | Source: Midjourney

Jake’s jaw tightened at her comment, but he stayed quiet. I noticed his hand twitch toward the wine bottle. Like he wanted to grab it and drown out the awkwardness with some good old fermented grapes.

Later, after most of our guests had shuffled home and Jake had retreated to the den to lick his wounds, I stayed behind to clean the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about it, honey,” I said. “You chill in there, and I’ll be with you soon. I stashed a pumpkin pie earlier, because I know we like it with cold whipped cream.”

A slice of pumpkin pie and whipped cream | Source: Midjourney

A slice of pumpkin pie and whipped cream | Source: Midjourney

I was trying to be nice. To help him realize that it had been a mistake, and nothing was wrong with that.

As I tossed scraps into the trash, a crumpled piece of paper caught my eye. Curious, I smoothed it out, revealing a handwritten recipe.

My heart sped up when I saw the name at the bottom of the page.

Sarah.

The contents of a trash can | Source: Midjourney

The contents of a trash can | Source: Midjourney

Sarah. Jake’s ex-wife.

My hands trembled as I stared at the card. Of all the people Jake could have gone to for a recipe — Google searches included — why on earth would he choose her? My mind worked overtime, trying to connect dots I didn’t want to see.

I stormed into the living room, holding the recipe card like evidence. Jake looked up from his football game rerun, his face draining of color.

A man sitting in front of a TV | Source: Midjourney

A man sitting in front of a TV | Source: Midjourney

“Care to explain this?” I asked, my voice colder than I intended.

Jake sat up straighter.

“I… uh… I just wanted to make something special, Jen. Sarah worked as a cook for a while, when she was into catering. And I thought she’d… you know… have some good ideas for me.”

A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

“You thought Sarah would have the answer?” I interrupted, my voice rising. “Not me, your wife, the person who has been cooking almost all of your meals, Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners included, for years?”

Jake’s mouth opened, then closed. For once, he had no response.

“I just… I didn’t want to mess up,” he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re so good at it, and I thought if I asked, you’d take over. I wanted to prove that I could do it all on my own.”

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

A man holding his head | Source: Midjourney

“And you couldn’t just ask me for a little help?” I snapped. “Not even for my suggestions? Instead, you went to your ex-wife?”

Jake winced.

“Jen, it wasn’t like that…”

“No?” I shot back. “Then what was it like?”

A woman with her hands on her hips | Source: Midjourney

A woman with her hands on her hips | Source: Midjourney

As I lay staring at the ceiling that night, my mind wouldn’t stop spiraling. Jake’s explanation felt weak. If he was too insecure to ask for my help with a turkey, what did that say about our relationship?

And Sarah?

Why her?

Was she really his best option, or was something else behind it? I mean, if I’m being honest, people always say you remember your first love forever.

A woman laying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

A woman laying in bed at night | Source: Midjourney

The next morning, Jake approached me with a mug of coffee and a slice of pumpkin pie.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I’m really sorry, love. I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to impress everyone, and I… I messed up royally.”

I nodded, keeping calm and collected, as I had instructed myself all night. I could barely sleep with my mind running through the possibilities.

A cup of coffee and a slice of pie | Source: Midjourney

A cup of coffee and a slice of pie | Source: Midjourney

“I understand wanting to impress people, Jake. But here’s the thing — next time you want advice, like good, solid advice, maybe start with the person you married. And for the record? Sarah sabotaged you. This recipe? Unless it was for some sickly sweet cereal treat, it was revenge, plain and simple.”

Jake blinked, his mouth dropping open.

“You think…”

A man looking shocked | Source: Midjourney

A man looking shocked | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, I don’t think, Jake,” I said firmly. “I know.”

He groaned, sinking into the nearest chair.

“Goodness, I’m such an idiot.”

Jake couldn’t seem to meet my eyes for the rest of Thanksgiving weekend. He apologized again, twice, but it didn’t erase the lingering doubt. I kept replaying the moment I found that recipe card and the look on his face when I confronted him.

A man looking apologetic | Source: Midjourney

A man looking apologetic | Source: Midjourney

Patricia, of course, added fuel to the fire. She was staying with us for the weekend and naturally had heard everything.

“Well, at least he learned his lesson,” she remarked with a smug sip of her wine.

Jake had decided to take our dog for a walk, leaving Patricia and me alone, dissecting the entire turkey fiasco.

A man with his dog | Source: Midjourney

A man with his dog | Source: Midjourney

“Do you really think he went to her for help?” I asked my mother-in-law. “That there is nothing else going on?”

“Darling, Sarah cheated on him. She broke his little heart, so it can’t be anything more. I think our foolish man just wanted to impress the women in his life, so he reached out to the only other one he knew well.”

“I’m doubting everything.” I admitted, picking up Patricia’s glass of wine and taking a sip.

A woman holding a glass of wine | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a glass of wine | Source: Midjourney

“Jen, he adores you. He’s just a bit stupid sometimes. But if you think that a bigger and more important conversation needs to be had, then go ahead, darling. Do it.”

I nodded.

By Sunday night, I was exhausted — emotionally, mentally, physically. That Thanksgiving turkey didn’t just leave a bad taste in my mouth. It left cracks in something I thought was solid.

A woman sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney

The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll ever fully trust Jake’s judgment again. Not just in the kitchen but in everything. And as we lay in bed that night, his soft apology didn’t make those doubts disappear.

For now, I’m still here. But I can’t shake the feeling that something shifted this Thanksgiving, and once things crack, it’s hard to piece them back together again.

A couple standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

A couple standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney

What would you have done?

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |

At Christmas Dinner, My Daughter Stood up and Shouted, ‘And Where’s the Man Mom Keeps in Our Basement?’

Over a family dinner with his wife, daughter, and extended family, Quentin thinks everything will be perfect in the Christmas wonderland his wife has created. But during dinner, Daphne, his daughter, claims there’s a man hidden in their basement. Quentin has no choice but to uncover the truth.

Christmas dinner was supposed to be perfect this year. My wife, Ivy, had spent weeks transforming our home into a holiday wonderland, from garlands framing the doorways to twinkling white lights strung across the windows.

A house decorated for Christmas | Source: Midjourney

A house decorated for Christmas | Source: Midjourney

Our 8-year-old daughter, Daphne, had helped set the table, her chaotic but charming touch evident in the mismatched napkin folds and slightly tilted name cards.

Both sets of grandparents were with us, this being Ivy’s first Christmas with her stepfather, Patrick. Everyone was laughing, trading stories, and sipping mulled wine. For once, everything felt harmonious.

Until Daphne destroyed it all.

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

A smiling little girl | Source: Midjourney

I was mid-slice into the turkey, the knife gliding through the golden, crispy skin, when Daphne climbed onto her chair.

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.

3 Stories of Parents’ First Encounters with Their Children’s Partners That Took Unexpected Turns

Meeting your child’s significant other can be nerve-wracking, but for these parents, the first encounters took unexpected and shocking turns. From hidden secrets to surprising revelations, these stories prove that family ties are sometimes tested in the most unbelievable ways.

Every parent hopes their child finds happiness, but what happens when meeting their partner brings more questions than answers? Scroll down to read three stories where things took an unexpected turn the day these parents met their children’s significant others.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

1. My Only Daughter Terrified Me When She Revealed the Rare Habit Her Boyfriend Had

After our Sunday dinner, my daughter Susan brought the last dishes to the sink. She had this look on her face that signaled something important was coming.

“Mom,” she began, “you know I’ve been seeing someone new, right?”

“Yes!” I replied. “What about him?”

Susan rarely shared much about her relationships. At 24, she kept her love life close to her chest, so I was always ready to listen when she did open up.

A smiling young woman | Source: Pexels

A smiling young woman | Source: Pexels

“His name’s Jack,” she said. “He’s quirky, and maybe it’s because of the age difference, but he has this strange habit.”

“Oh?” I asked, curious.

“He only eats the top of the muffin! Says it’s the best part,” she giggled.

My hands froze, the plate slipping from my grasp and shattering on the floor. That habit was too familiar.

“Mom! Are you okay?” Susan rushed to clean up the broken pieces.

A broken plate on the floor | Source: Pexels

A broken plate on the floor | Source: Pexels

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” I said, though my mind was spinning.

The memory of my Jack and his habit of eating just the muffin tops flooded back. Could it really be the same person?

Later that night, I lay in bed, thinking about him.

Jack was the man who had once been the center of my world. We parted ways years ago when life pulled us in different directions. He went abroad to study, while I stayed behind to care for my father.

Eventually, I married Phil and had Susan. However, my marriage with Phil ended in divorce a few years later.

A woman taking her ring off | Source: Pexels

A woman taking her ring off | Source: Pexels

At that point, Jack was still in my heart.

Could Susan’s Jack be the same Jack? I thought, but I was too afraid to ask my daughter.

Months passed, and every time Susan mentioned Jack, the unease grew. I avoided meeting him because I was too terrified to confront the possibility.

Then came the day Susan called me.

“Mom, Jack proposed!” she exclaimed. “We’re getting married!”

A few minutes later, she sent a photo of her ring, and it was beautiful. But Jack wasn’t in sight.

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney

As Susan prepared for the wedding, she often asked if she could come to my place with Jack. I came up with a new excuse every time, trying my best to avoid meeting him.

However, as the wedding day approached, I couldn’t avoid meeting him any longer.

I prepared myself for the worst at my daughter’s wedding.

As I stepped inside the venue, my gaze landed on the groom.

A groom | Source: Midjourney

A groom | Source: Midjourney

“Thank God,” I whispered to myself.

The man standing next to my daughter wasn’t my Jack. Feeling relaxed, I began talking to the guests.

A few minutes later, I heard a voice behind me.

“Elizabeth?”

I turned, and there he was. My Jack, standing with his son, Susan’s fiancé.

The world seemed to stop as we locked eyes. He looked as stunned as I felt.

A man at his son's wedding | Source: Midjourney

A man at his son’s wedding | Source: Midjourney

“Susan’s your daughter? I had no idea!” Jack exclaimed.

We spoke briefly during the reception, catching up on the years that had passed. He had lived a life parallel to mine.

He got married, parted ways with his wife, and now had children who meant everything to him.

I felt so happy watching Susan walk down the aisle that day. This was her moment, her future, and the love in her eyes told me everything I needed to know.

Later, as Jack handed me a glass of champagne, he said softly, “I came back for you, but you were gone.”

“I had to leave after my father passed,” I whispered.

A woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to a man | Source: Midjourney

“I’m sorry,” he said, and I knew he meant it.

While dancing with Susan that night, I realized this wasn’t just her new beginning. It was a moment of healing for me too.

Jack and I had come full circle, but this time, it wasn’t about us. It was about my daughter’s happiness and that was all that mattered.

A bride and groom holding hands | Source: Pexels

A bride and groom holding hands | Source: Pexels

2. Woman Humiliated Me at a Restaurant, but the Next Day, She Appeared at My Door as My DIL

I’ve always lived simply, saving everything for my son, John. I raised him alone, and now he is a hardworking business owner.

One day, I decided to visit his new restaurant to surprise him. I wore my usual modest clothes and took a bus.

Upon reaching there, I walked in and found a quiet table by the window. The waiter greeted me, and I asked him to bring me a cup of tea.

A waiter in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A waiter in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

As I waited, a young woman dressed in designer clothes approached me with a smug expression.

“Excuse me,” she said condescendingly, “This table is reserved for my boyfriend and me. You’ll have to move.”

I was startled. “Oh, I didn’t realize. There wasn’t a reservation sign.”

“Doesn’t matter. This table is for someone dressed more… appropriately. You wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself.”

A woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Her words made me angry, but I didn’t want to cause a scene. I quietly gathered my things and left without even meeting John.

I felt extremely humiliated but didn’t tell my son about it because I thought that would spoil our meeting the next day.

Little did I know that things would only get worse.

A woman going home | Source: Midjourney

A woman going home | Source: Midjourney

The following day, I was preparing lunch at home, eager to meet John’s girlfriend. I was so excited when the doorbell rang, but it immediately faded away when I opened the door.

The same woman who had humiliated me at the restaurant was now standing on my doorstep. She was John’s girlfriend.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she recognized me, but then she just smiled. She pretended like she was meeting me for the first time.

“Mom, meet Sarah,” John said.

A close-up shot of a man smiling | Source: Midjourney

A close-up shot of a man smiling | Source: Midjourney

“Hi, Sarah,” I said, forcing a smile. “Please come in.”

As we sat down to eat, John began talking about their plans. Then, he dropped a bombshell.

“Mom, Sarah has a great idea. She wants to buy a café, and we were hoping you could lend us some money to help get it started.”

“A café?” I asked, looking at her with wide eyes. “That’s a lot of money, John.”

Before John could respond, Sarah stood abruptly and excused herself to use the restroom.

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

I immediately turned to John once she left. “Are you sure about this? I don’t trust her, John. She treated me poorly yesterday at your restaurant.”

“What are you talking about?” John asked, confused.

Then, I told him everything that happened yesterday.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Before I could say more, Sarah returned and sensed the tension.

“What’s going on?” she asked sweetly.

“Mom says she won’t give us the money,” John replied, clearly upset.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

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

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

“I don’t trust you, Sarah,” I said. “You treated me terribly yesterday at the restaurant.”

She feigned innocence at first, but when that didn’t work, her tone changed.

“If your mom doesn’t accept me, our relationship is over,” she spat, turning around to leave.

I thought my son would stay back, but he didn’t. He stood up, held her hand, and left me alone.

At that point, I knew Sarah wasn’t the right woman for John. I felt helpless because I couldn’t do anything to make him realize that.

An older woman crying | Source: Pexels

An older woman crying | Source: Pexels

A month later, I received an invitation to the café’s opening. John told me he had arranged the money for Sarah through a few friends.

“I’ll be there, sweetheart,” I told John as a plan brewed in my mind. “I’ll definitely be there.”

On the day of the opening, I wore my best dress and took a bus to the café.

“Mom! How are you?” John greeted me at the entrance. “Come in, the celebrations are about to begin.”

I smiled and made my way inside.

A few minutes later, I asked Sarah to step out with me for a short conversation. Before leaving, I discreetly nodded to the bartender, signaling to set my plan into motion.

A bartender | Source: Pexels

A bartender | Source: Pexels

“So, Sarah, I’m curious about your plans for the café. How do you see its future?” I asked casually.

Sarah smiled, confident in her victory. “Oh, it’s going to be a great success. I’ve got big plans.”

“Really? And what about the money John arranged for you? How are you planning to use it?”

I quietly watched as she rolled her eyes.

A young woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A young woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, that? It’ll help with the expansion and a few personal investments,” she said before looking around to ensure we were alone. “You see, I need John only for the financial benefits. Love is nice, but security is better.”

I couldn’t believe my ears.

“Your son loves me so much. He’s never gonna realize he’s being manipulated. And we all saw how he refused to believe you the other day,” she chuckled.

After a few more minutes of her revealing her true intentions, I decided it was time to return inside.

A woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

A woman in a restaurant | Source: Midjourney

Everyone was silent when we stepped inside.

“What’s up, babe?” Sarah asked, but John just looked at her with wide eyes.

“Mom was right about you,” he said. “I heard everything you said outside.”

Sarah had no idea I had connected my phone to the Bluetooth speaker in the café, and everyone had heard our conversation. Everyone in the room knew Sarah didn’t love John.

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

An upset man | Source: Midjourney

“John, it’s not what you think!” she pleaded, but it was too late.

John, humiliated and heartbroken, ended their relationship. He later apologized to me over a quiet dinner.

3. I Met My Fiancé’s Parents, Only to Find Another Woman Posing as Me at Dinner

I’ll never forget the first time Mark and I met. It wasn’t love at first sight or any kind of sight, actually. We worked at the same company for three years without ever crossing paths. But one day, Mark emailed me about a sales issue, and that’s how it all began.

He called me to discuss the email, and soon our work-related conversations turned into something else. I found myself looking forward to his calls.

Eventually, he asked me out on a date.

A man texting on his phone | Source: Pexels

A man texting on his phone | Source: Pexels

“Are you sure, Mark? I might not be what you expect,” I told him.

After all, I wasn’t the slim, polished woman someone like Mark might typically go for.

“Anna,” he said, “I love tea, and you’re my cup of tea.”

I laughed and agreed to the date.

When we finally met in person, I could see the surprise in Mark’s eyes. I wasn’t blind. I knew I was plus-size, and that wasn’t always what people expected.

But by the end of that lunch, we had hit it off. I thought we were perfect together.

A couple holding hands on a date | Source: Pexels

A couple holding hands on a date | Source: Pexels

Six months later, Mark proposed. It was a dream come true, but something always felt off.

He kept me away from his friends and family, and I could tell he was embarrassed about my size.

Still, I thought love could overcome anything. I didn’t know how wrong I was.

One day, Mark’s parents were hosting their 40th wedding anniversary. He told me we’d drive up to Connecticut and spend the weekend with them.

I was excited to finally meet his family.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

But then, just two days before the event, Mark called with some bad news.

“I’m flying to Colorado for a work emergency,” he said. “I’ll meet you in Connecticut on Saturday, but you can’t come with me.”

I was disappointed, but I wanted to surprise him. So, I decided to deliver the anniversary gift to his parents myself. Wrong decision.

I knocked on the door, and an older woman answered a few minutes later.

“Yes?” she asked with a smile.

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney

“Hi, I’m Anna, Mark’s fiancée,” I introduced myself. “This is an anniversary gift for his parents.”

Her smile vanished.

“Is this a joke?” she asked, stunned. “Mark’s fiancée is inside having dinner with us right now.”

Confused and horrified, I pushed past her and into the dining room. There, sitting next to Mark, was a beautiful, slim woman clinging to his arm.

“Mark! What’s going on?” I demanded.

I still remember the look on his face.

A man in his house | Source: Midjourney

A man in his house | Source: Midjourney

“Anna, this isn’t what you think. She’s an actress. I—”

“I don’t understand,” I cut him off. “If you didn’t love me, why did you propose?”

“I do love you!” he insisted. “I just… I was afraid. You know, you’re so… big.”

His words broke my heart. I immediately took off my engagement ring and placed it on the table.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t be ashamed of me,” I said quietly and walked out.

Mark tried calling me for days, but I didn’t pick up. I couldn’t. I was heartbroken. How could someone who claimed to love me be so ashamed of who I was?

A man using his phone | Source: Pexels

A man using his phone | Source: Pexels

A few days later, I arrived at work and saw a crowd gathered outside the building. Everyone was pointing at a huge billboard across the street. I gasped when I saw it.

There was a picture of Mark and me with the words, “I LOVE ANNA AND I WANT TO MARRY HER!”

Before I could process it, Mark appeared, dropping to one knee.

“Anna, I’m an idiot,” he said. “But I love you. Please marry me.”

I stood there for a moment as tears streamed down my cheeks.

A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney

A woman standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney

“You ARE an idiot,” I finally said. “But I still love you.”

Now, we’re planning our winter wedding in Connecticut. I never thought I’d forgive him, but love, it turns out, is bigger than any fear.

If you enjoyed reading this compilation, here’s another one you might like: Instant karma doesn’t wait for the guilty to escape unscathed. These three stories show how people who thought they could get away with wrongdoing were served poetic justice on the spot.

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.

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