MY HUSBAND TOOK ME TO A FANCY RESTAURANT FOR OUR ANNIVERSARY BUT ONLY LET ME ORDER A CHEAP SALAD – THIS IS ME, ALL READY TO MAKE HIM REGRET IT.
Mark promised to make our tenth anniversary unforgettable. He took me to “La Belle Époque,” the fanciest place in town. When I chose the lobster bisque and filet mignon, he interrupted me, saying, “How about a house salad?
You’re trying to lose weight, right?”
I was furious as he ordered for me, leaving me to pick at my salad while he enjoyed his lavish meal.
The next day, I planned my revenge.
I left a note for Mark: “Meet me at La Belle Époque at 7 PM.
Dress nicely. – Emma.”
He arrived looking smug, but when he saw me already seated in that red dress he loved, his expression changed.
Just as he sat down, I…
To find out what happens next, check the first comment below 👇👇👇
My Husband Took Me to a Fancy Restaurant for Our Anniversary but Only Let Me Order a Cheap Salad – This Special Day He Won’t Forget
Emma’s husband, Mark, took her to the most upscale restaurant in town to celebrate their tenth wedding anniversary, but only made her order an inexpensive salad.
Little did he know, she was about to make him pay for his thoughtlessness in a big way. The diner was bathed in warm, golden light from the chandelier, creating an elegant ambiance with exquisite table settings and plush velvet chairs.
Mark had promised me that our tenth anniversary would be unforgettable.
I envisioned a lavish evening filled with gourmet dishes and fine wine, noticing the knowing smiles exchanged between the waitstaff as we were seated. It was clear they knew Mark well. We were at “La Belle Époque,” the most prestigious restaurant in town, reserved for significant occasions, and tonight was one of them.
Mark casually handed me the menu.
“Order whatever you like, dear,” he said, though his eyes conveyed a different message. I eagerly scanned the menu, filled with enticing but pricey options that made my mouth water.
Feeling excited, I said, “I think I’ll start with the lobster bisque and then have the filet mignon.”
Mark’s smile faded. “Actually, why don’t you start with a house salad?
You do want to lose a few pounds, right?
Maybe next time, you’ll wear that lovely red dress I like.” His comments felt like a slap. A wave of humiliation washed over me as I glanced around. Did he think this was funny?
The steely glint in his eyes told me he was serious.
“Mark, it’s our anniversary,” I protested quietly. “I thought—”
He cut me off with a dismissive wave, addressing the waiter instead.
“You thought wrong. I’ll have the Chateaubriand, medium rare, and my wife will have the house salad, along with a bottle of your finest red wine.”
With a sad mound of greens in front of me, I swallowed my anger.
While Mark relished each bite of his luxurious dinner, savoring the tender steak and rich sauce, I sipped my water, feeling like the meal would never end.
It was painful to accept Mark’s domineering behavior throughout dinner. As I picked at my salad, he was enjoying every bite and making comments about his meal. I made an effort to stay composed, but my frustration was boiling beneath the surface.
Without even looking at me, he ordered dessert—a decadent chocolate soufflé—and said, “She’s done.”
I felt ashamed.
Here I was, being treated coldly on our wedding anniversary. As he enjoyed his dessert, I resolved not to let this go.
I would ensure this anniversary became a memory for him, but for all the wrong reasons. I smiled to myself and began to devise a plan.
Early the next morning, I woke up while Mark continued to snore beside me.
With ideas racing through my mind, I quietly slipped out of bed. He left for work, and I got to work on my own plans, reaching out to friends for a few favors. It was time for a role reversal.
I spent the day preparing.
First, I contacted the management of “La Belle Époque.” I explained my situation and made reservations for the same table for the following night. The manager was sympathetic and agreed to help.
Next, I borrowed the beautiful red dress that Mark always admired by calling a friend who worked at a boutique. I then reached out to a lawyer friend who helped me open a personal bank account.
She checked the details of our joint account and the emergency cash Mark had hidden.
Having that money gave me the confidence to take the next step. Once everything was arranged, I left Mark a note saying, “Meet me at La Belle Époque at 7 PM. Wear something nice.
Emma.” When Mark got home, the note was waiting for him on the kitchen counter, and the house was quiet.
The story doesn’t end here — it continues on the next page to discover the rest 🔎👇
