PART 1
Julian and I had been married for two years. I was on maternity leave with our newborn daughter, Maya.
Julian never helped me, spending nearly all his time at work. His “late meetings” had become almost nightly.
One afternoon, I called to ask if he would be home for dinner.
“Probably not,” he snapped. “Can you stop checking up on me? I’m working.”
I swallowed the hurt.
“Okay. Love you.”
He didn’t answer.
I laid my phone beside Maya’s bottle, then noticed the call timer was still running.
I was about to end the call when I heard a strange sound — a woman’s laugh.
Then my husband spoke.
“She’s driving me insane. Texting pictures of the baby, asking when I’ll be home… I just want her to leave me alone.”
My fingers went numb.
The woman murmured something.
Julian laughed.
“Of course I hate her. I barely touch her anymore. Just wait. I’ll divorce her, and then I’ll marry you.”
A kiss sounded through the speaker.
I couldn’t move.
With my free hand, I quietly ended the call.
That evening, Julian arrived with grocery-store flowers and kissed my forehead.
“Missed my girls,” he said, smiling as if he hadn’t torn my life apart hours earlier.
I smiled back.
“We missed you, too.”
For six days, I said nothing. I watched Julian take his phone into the shower, change his passcode, and spray cologne before every “late shift.”
Meanwhile, I prepared our anniversary gift.
I had planned to celebrate our anniversary with just the three of us, but at the last minute, I changed my plans.
So on Sunday, I hosted dinner and invited both families. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, pumpkin pie — a normal, cozy American meal.
When the plates were cleared, I stood with my water glass.
“I want to give a toast,” I said.
Julian stiffened.
I looked right at him and smiled.
“My dear husband, Julian…” I cleared my throat.
PART 2 — My husband forgot to hang up, believing the call had ended — the moment I heard what he really thought of me, I planned a little surprise he would never forget.
