Ten years of marriage summed up in a single, thoughtless gift—a $9.99 mop. That was how my husband, Carl, chose to mark our anniversary. His “gift” left the room in stunned silence, except for his sister Anita, whose laughter rang out like a hyena’s cackle. But what neither of them anticipated was the swift hand of karma that followed, delivering justice in a way they could never have imagined.
It was our 10th anniversary, and Carl had gone all out, throwing a lavish party. He called it a celebration of our love. Yet, as I stood in the middle of the crowded room, wearing a forced smile, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling twisting in my gut.
“Mary, darling!” Anita’s shrill voice sliced through the air. She swanned over to me, waving her hand in the air so her gold bracelet—one Carl had gifted her just last month—caught the light. “Isn’t this party just fabulous? Carl really knows how to spoil the important women in his life!” she crowed, jangling the bracelet for effect.
I gritted my teeth and forced a smile. “It’s… lovely,” I said, though the truth tasted bitter in my mouth.
Anita leaned in, her breath heavy with champagne. “I can’t wait to see what Carl’s gotten you for your big anniversary. It must be spectacular after all this.”
Before I could muster a response, Carl’s voice boomed from across the room. “Everyone, can I have your attention, please!”
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