My spouse and I got into a big disagreement one evening. It was unusual, but not unheard of for us. We were both impulsive people, and our emotions occasionally interfered with our rationality.
Long story short, Charles stormed out of the house and spent the night with his best buddy. I could still see his location, and he called to tell me he’d be home the next day.

“I just need some time to cool off,” Charles explained. But I’ll be home tomorrow, so we can discuss. Okay?”

And just like that, I knew we would be fine.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.

With nothing but my thoughts to distract me, I decided to take a bubble bath and go to bed early.

“May as well just take a personal night,” I said to myself as the bathtub filled.

The following day, I prepared a delicious meal. I knew that no matter how unhappy Charles had been the day before, when he got home, he would look forward to our supper together.

While I waited for him to get home, I was going through my social media when I came across a message from my mother-in-law that made me gasp.

It featured a very unflattering photo of me, along with the caption:

Cheers to fresh beginnings! I am pleased to report that my kid is no longer affiliated with this insane gold digger. Charles is back in the market! If you are under 25 years old, please contact me to schedule a date.

My pulse raced as nausea overwhelmed my body. Linda’s voice echoed in my mind as I read the sentences over and over again.

“This has to be a joke,” I muttered, calling my mother-in-law’s phone and barely keeping my hands from shaking.

“Hello?” she replied, her voice saccharine honey.

“Linda, what the hell is this?” I almost screamed, my voice shaking with rage as I struggled to fight back my tears.

“What are you talking about?” She said she was either absolutely ignorant or acting very well.

“Your Facebook post!” I burst.

“Oh, that,” she responded. “Charles hasn’t told you yet. We both agreed that it would be best if you two split ways. Let’s face it, Jess, you’re not the ideal match for my son. He deserves someone who genuinely values him.”

What was she talking about?

“Does he deserve someone who appreciates him? Do you mean like me? “Is she the real woman he married?” I asked. I yelled.

I was walking around my living room, trying to digest all she was saying.

“Why would you publish anything like this on Facebook? This is embarrassing! What are everyone’s thoughts on this?

“Well, Jess,” she said hesitantly. “He called me last night and told me all about your fight.”

She hesitated, as if attempting to select her words carefully.

“He shouted some nasty things, and I decided it was time to take action. My youngster is clearly fed up with the situation. You should let him go. Be gentle about it, Jess. Allow him to meet someone fresh.

“Linda, you are just unbelievable,” I yelled, cutting off the conversation before she could react.

I sat on the couch, my thoughts whirling. My spouse and I had disagreements, but we always worked things out.

“Our marriage is everything to me,” Charles told me after we reconciled following one of our disagreements. “So, you need to believe me when I say that a few fights won’t break us.”

Yet how could Linda think she should announce this? How could Charles allow her to do it?

Charles would never harm me like that.

I ended up napping on the couch. I wanted my brain to turn off for a while.

And then my husband arrived home.

“Hey,” he whispered quietly, approaching me.

“Hey?” I repeated the question, stood up, and pressed my phone against his face. “Explain this, Charles. “What is this?”

My husband snatched the phone, and his expression plummeted as he read the post.

I knew Charles; he wouldn’t fake such a reaction.

“Oh my God, I… Jess, I didn’t know she did this,” he interrupted.

“You didn’t know?” Charles, seriously? Your mother posted about our marriage’s demise on Facebook! “How could she think that was okay?”

“Look, I called her last night to vent,” he explained, scratching his temples.

“I said many things that I didn’t intend.” I was simply mad, you know? But I never stated that I wanted a divorce. I said nothing about terminating our marriage. “I was planning to tell you everything tonight.”

“What did you tell her, Charles? Why did she assume you wanted a divorce?” My rage poured out as I demanded.

“I told her that we were arguing about money again,” he said, appearing embarrassed. “I told her I was weary of battling and couldn’t handle it any longer. But I never mentioned that I wanted to leave you. “I was just venting.”

“Well, explain it to the rest of the world,” I said, handing him my phone.

I wasn’t sure how I should feel. On the one hand, money was a frequent issue in our household. I worked in catering, and it was not always straightforward to get well-paying jobs. Most of the time, Charles bore the financial burden, and he did provide for both of us.

But I didn’t realize the situation had deteriorated to the point where we were considering divorce.

My spouse gave me a gloomy expression.

“Is it really this bad?” Is this too difficult? Should we end our marriage?” I asked him, my questions flowing freely from my mouth.

“No, Jess,” he said firmly. “We need to talk about it and perhaps adjust our lifestyle, but divorce is nothing.” I do not want it. “Do you?”

I shake my head.

Charles exhaled and called his mother’s number.

“Mom, take down the post,” he urged as soon as she responded.

“But, Charles, I thought that—”

“No, you thought wrong,” he said, interrupting. “We fought. This does not imply that we are ending our marriage. “Take it down now.”

Before he hung up, I could hear her sputtering on the other end. He turned to me, his expression filled with remorse.

“I’m very sorry, Jess,” he replied. “I never meant for her to take it to this length.”
Charles glanced down, remorse engraved on his face.
“I understand. “I promise.” And I will make it right.

He stretched out and squeezed my hand softly.

“Look, Jess, since everyone believes we’re divorcing now anyway, let’s renew our vows.”

“What?” I inquired, shock and amusement taking over.

“Look, darling,” he stated. “I understand how tedious and repetitious our money disputes are. However, we may continue to discuss it as usual. And I believe your cooking school concept is excellent. I’m going to rearrange some cash to pay for it, love.

I had wanted to go to culinary school for a long time.

“It will open doors for you, Jessica. “The opportunities will flood in.”

This is the man I married. Not the shady character Linda painted him as. He allowed his mother to publicize his divorce on social media, allowing her to arrange his dates.

“Yes,” I agree. “Maybe a vow renewal is exactly what we need.”

In the weeks that followed, Charles and I arranged a small ceremony for only our siblings and my parents. Linda was not invited. Doing it in our backyard was probably the most therapeutic thing we could have done.

Charles explained as we sliced the cake I had cooked, “We just needed a reminder of who we are.” “We’re stronger together, Jess.”

I admit that seeing Linda makes my blood boil, but I know Charles and I are OK. Our communication has significantly improved today. I attend culinary school and hold a part-time job at a well-known café.

We are going to succeed.

What would you have done?

If you loved this tale, here’s another one for you!

My wedding planner said I canceled my own wedding, but I didn’t—the truth left me speechless.
Chelsea is preparing to marry Rasmus, the guy of her dreams. But when the wedding day approaches and no guests show up, Chelsea must discover who canceled the wedding and whether her fiancé is suitable for her or not.

Rasmus and I met in a bakery. It was a beautiful little meet-cute, and I was confident he was the right person for me. Over rye bread, we exchanged numbers.

Two years later, we were waking up on our wedding day.

That morning, I bathed early, excited for my hair and makeup appointments. I recall sitting on the side of the hotel bed, staring at my outfit, and holding my breath.

I could not wait to marry Rasmus. I could not wait to start our lives together.

So the day went on—my maid of honor, my sister Jess, was with me, and we continued to prepare.

“Where’s Mom?” Jess asked. “Shouldn’t she be dressing with us?” Jess inquired.

“No, we agreed that it would be better if she and Dad met us at the site.”

Jessica shook her head.

“You’d think that Mom would have sorted out her feelings by now.”

True, my parents loved me, but they couldn’t see Rasmus and me together.

“There’s just something off about him,” my father would say. “But we respect your wishes to marry him.”

As the time approached, Jess called for the hotel vehicle, and we drove to the wedding location.

“Where is everyone?” Jessica inquired, mirroring my sentiments.