My Husband Made Me Host His Birthday Party with My Arm Broken – So I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget

We’d met months back when I started googling things like “mental load marriage” and “is this normal or am I losing it?” She’d drafted divorce papers “for whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready,” I told her. “Can he be served at the party?”

There was a pause. Then: “Yes.

We can arrange that.”

We set the time and details.

The next day, the cleaning crew came while Jason was at work. Three people cleaned the house from top to bottom, including corners I’d never even noticed.

Jason texted me once from work.

House looks amazing. You didn’t have to go crazy lol.

I wrote back: Told you I’d handle it.

On the morning of the party, Maria and another caterer came with all the food and set everything up.

Chafing dishes, serving spoons, labels, cake centered on the table.

Maria glanced at my cast.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asked. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m okay,” I said. “Tonight is… important.”

By the time the guests arrived, the house was spotless.

Food looked like something from a magazine. Music playing, candles lit.

Jason strutted around like he’d spent days planning.

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