“IT’S TIME TO GET DIVORCED.”

Written in icing: “It’s Time to Get Divorced.”

Before I could even react, my phone rang again

The caller ID flashed, and it was Thomas. My hand was shaking as I answered. I didn’t know what to say. Was this his cruel way of breaking the news?

“Anna, thank God! Did you get the delivery? Please tell me you got the cake.” His voice was frantic, not like someone about to get a divorce.

“Thomas… I got a cake,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “And it says…” I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.

“What? What does it say? There’s been a mix-up! It was supposed to be a surprise from me.”

My heart was pounding. “It says… ‘It’s Time to Get Divorced.’”

There was a long silence on the other end, and then a strangled, half-choked laugh. “No. Oh my God, no! That was not for you. That was for Sarah. My business partner, Sarah! Her husband just moved out, and I ordered a ‘joke’ cake for her.”

I slumped onto the couch, relief washing over me so completely that I felt dizzy.

Thomas continued, his voice now a little more composed. “I ordered two cakes from the same place and the same courier company. One was for you—a classic red velvet that was supposed to say ‘Happy First Anniversary, My Love.’ The other was for Sarah, a chocolate one with the joke message. The courier must have mixed them up.”

“But… the emergency meeting?” I asked, looking down at my perfect dress.

“There is no emergency meeting. I’m at the airport right now, about to get on a plane to Miami. I was going to surprise you with a long weekend trip. I even booked a beautiful hotel on the beach. I had a whole plan, Anna. And now… now I have to figure out how to get to your house and then to the airport to catch our flight, so we can celebrate for real.”

I looked at the cake on the counter. The cruel message now seemed absurdly funny. It was a testament to the chaotic, silly, and wonderful first year we had together.

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