At my anniversary, my mother-in-law raised her glass: «To the daughter of a cleaning lady who got married successfully!» My husband was choking with laughter and filming it on his phone. My mother stood up and said three words, after which my mother-in-law turned pale…

Margaret, regaining some composure, stood, leaning on Steven. “We’re leaving. Now. Steven, get my purse and coat.”

Steven nodded like an obedient child. “Wait,” Anna stepped between them and the door. “You’re not leaving so easily after this.”

“Get out of my way,” Margaret hissed. “Your marriage is over. Tomorrow, I’m sending Steven to a lawyer.”

Ellen, watching the exchange, said softly, “Don’t you think your daughter-in-law should decide that? Last I checked, divorce requires both parties’ consent.”

“Mom, please,” Anna said quietly. “Let me handle this.” She turned to her husband. “Steven, do you want a divorce?”

Steven looked lost, his eyes flicking between his mother and wife. “I…”

“Anna, let’s not do this now. Everyone’s emotional.”

“No,” she said firmly. “I want to know now. After two years of marriage, after everything I’ve endured from your mother, after supporting you through your diagnosis, I deserve an answer. Do you want a divorce?”

Margaret cut in before he could respond. “Of course he does. You think my son will stay with a woman who shamed our family in public?”

“I’m not talking to you,” Anna snapped, eyes fixed on Steven. “Steven…”

He swallowed, looking down. “I… I need to think.”

Anna nodded, as if expecting that. “Fine. Think. While you’re thinking, pack your things and stay with your mom. I need space.”

Margaret gasped. “What? You’re the one who should leave! Steven pays for this apartment!”

“The lease is in my name,” Anna replied calmly. “And we split the rent. So I get to decide who stays.”

Steven stared, as if seeing his wife for the first time. This confident, decisive woman was nothing like the one who always yielded to his mother. “Anna, can we talk privately?” he asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “We’ve said enough. Or rather, others have said it for us.”

She glanced pointedly at Margaret. Margaret lunged forward, but Steven held her back. “Mom, calm down, your heart.”

“Let go!” she yanked her arm free. “This… this girl can’t talk to me like that! Steven, if you’re a man, put her in her place!”

Guests, who’d been watching silently, began whispering. Olivia approached Anna and whispered, “Need help? Want me to call a cab or…?”

“I’m okay,” Anna squeezed her friend’s hand. “This was bound to happen.”

Margaret, sensing her grip slipping, launched a final attack. “Steven, we’re leaving! Now! And you’re filing for divorce tomorrow! I won’t let my son be humiliated!”

Steven stood, torn between his mother and wife. He looked pathetic, a confused man unable to choose. “I…” he started, but Margaret cut him off. “No ‘I’! We’re going!”

She grabbed his arm and dragged him toward the exit. Steven cast a final glance at Anna—embarrassment, fear, maybe regret—but let his mother lead him away. The door closed, leaving a heavy silence. Thirty people had just witnessed a marriage implode.

Anna stood in the center, feeling every gaze—sympathetic, curious, awkward. Ellen approached and asked softly, “You okay?”

Anna exhaled. “No, but I will be.” She turned to the guests and, to her own surprise, smiled. It was strained but genuine. “Sorry for the drama. Not how I pictured my birthday.”

“Anna, we can leave if you want,” a friend offered. “You probably need to be alone.”..