At the party, his mother unwrapped a 75-inch TV to gasps and applause. Emily’s small box held a frying pan. “Now you can make my pancakes even better,” Jake said. His mother laughed. Emily smiled—a thin, breakable smile. The next day, she sold the TV for $1,800 and booked a solo trip to Hawaii.
At Sunday breakfast, she stood with the pan in hand. “This represents our marriage,” she said evenly. “Useful. Practical. For his needs.” Then she left, purse in hand, silence trailing behind her.
A week later, tan and free, she found Jake gone and a note saying he’d return once she’d “calmed down.” She packed the pan, mug, and every thoughtless gift into a box and left it on her mother-in-law’s porch with a note: They were always more yours than mine. Driving away, Emily smiled. It was her birthday too.