For our first anniversary, I gave Melanie a single rose – but she laughed, called it pathetic, and threw it away. She didn’t realise what it really meant. Later that night, she found my real gift… and her world came crashing down. By then, it was too late to save our relationship.
Valentine’s Day wasn’t just another holiday with chocolates and roses. For Melanie and I, it was also our first wedding anniversary.
The idea of getting married on Valentine’s Day seemed great, as it was a truly romantic gesture.
But as soon as I started thinking about what to get her for our first anniversary and first Valentine’s Day as a married couple, I realised how much stress I had created for myself.
Melanie had always been demanding, demanding the finer things in life, but I loved her no matter what.
Before the wedding, I had worked endless overtime hours, climbing the corporate ladder, determined to live up to her standards.
This anniversary was to be no different. It had to be special so that she would remember this day for years to come…or at least until next year when I’d have to come up with something even better.
I spent months thinking about what I could get Melanie to impress her and finally realised that I already had the perfect gift!
All that was left was to think about how to present it.
I finally came up with the perfect plan. Waiting for her reaction had kept me waiting for weeks, but the day had finally arrived.
I filled our living room with garlands of lights and lit some of her favourite scented candles. When she got home from work, I asked her to close her eyes and led her into the living room.
‘Oh! This is…nice,’ she said when I told her she could open her eyes.
Her hesitant reply stressed me out again, but before I could say anything, she smiled broadly at me and insisted that we exchange gifts immediately.
‘Wait here,’ she said. ‘I’ll be right back.’
I sat down on the couch, next to where I had hidden her gift.
Soon she came back and sat down next to me.
‘On the count of three?’ – I asked, trying to remain calm. This moment seemed unreal, like a dream I couldn’t understand.
Melanie nodded and closed her eyes, her trademark smirk playing on her lips.
‘One…’ – She said, and I quickly pulled out her gift and hid it behind my back. ‘…Two…three!’
We opened our presents at the same time.
Melanie held out a set of car keys adorned with a red bow. I froze in shock, not believing my eyes.
“A car? You bought me a car?” – I asked, taking the keys.
I was so dumbfounded I didn’t notice the disgusted look she threw at the single red rose I held out to her until it was too late.
‘Are you kidding?’ She picked up the rose as if it was the week’s rubbish. “That’s it? That’s what I deserve after all these years? A pathetic little rose? You couldn’t even buy a proper gift?”
Her face contorted into something ugly that I’d seen too many times, but always chose to ignore.
That look combined with her complete disregard for my gift hurt me deeply.
‘It’s not just a rose…’ – I muttered, but she silenced me with a look from her evil eyes.
‘You’ve always been poor,’ she spat out, her words cutting deeper than ever before, “and you still act like a poor man. Do you even know who you married?”
She dismissed the rose as an insignificant object and grabbed the car keys out of my hands.
She turned the keys over in her palm, her lips curved in a cruel smile. “Oh, and these? Those aren’t from me. The car was bought for me by my father. I was just being generous. Obviously, I’m the only one putting effort into our relationship.”
The weight of her words hit me like a physical blow. The car-the extravagant gift that had shocked me-wasn’t even from her.
Of course it wasn’t. She had never been the kind of person who would spend money on others when it could be spent on herself.
I sat there, frozen, years of memories flying through my mind. All those moments when I put up with her harsh words, convincing myself that love is patience.
All the overtime hours I’d worked, believing that if I gave her enough, she’d finally see me as enough. All the holidays where my gifts were met with discreet disappointment, all the dinners where she discreetly mocked my social status in front of our friends.
But as I watched her discard my gift, as it was worthless, something changed inside me.
The woman standing in front of me was a stranger. Had she always been so cruel? Or did I just refuse to see it?
The realisation hit me like ice water in my veins. This marriage, this relationship, everything we’d built together-it was all based on a lie I’d told myself.
Later that evening, our house filled with family and friends for an anniversary dinner. Conversations and laughter reverberated off the walls, glasses clinked, and music played in the background.
Melanie was back to her usual self – charming, laughing, catching attention like a flower in the sun. She moved from group to group, telling everyone about the car her father had bought her, carefully omitting the rose.
I sat in the corner, sipping a glass of whiskey, unable to take my eyes off the unopened box on the table. A real gift. One that had been prepared for months and saved for years.
Did it all matter? The events of today were a wake-up call for me, and I was already starting to plan the next step.
‘Wait… so you didn’t even open his real gift?!’ – My sister’s voice cut through the chatter, full of bewilderment.
She stood in the corner with Melanie, arms crossed, eyes wide with shock.
‘What do you mean by his “real gift”?’ – Melanie turned to me abruptly, her perfectly shaped eyebrows wrinkled. ‘Is there another gift?’
I leaned back in my chair, surprised at how calm I felt. ‘He’s not for you anymore.’
But she had already spotted the small, unopened box.
Without hesitation, she rushed over to it, unpacking it right in front of everyone. Our guests fell silent as they watched the scene unfold.
The puzzles spilled out onto the polished table. Her lips curved into a mocking chuckle.
‘What the hell is this?’ – She laughed, scoffing rudely, turning the pieces over in her hands. ‘More gifts from the dollar shop?’
Then she noticed a small card inside the box.
Her laughter immediately stopped and she pulled it out, her eyes quickly running over the words. The colour left her face.
‘No way,’ she muttered, her voice barely audible.
The puzzle wasn’t just random pieces: it was a picture of a house. Our house. The house I’d secretly bought for us after spending months searching for the perfect lot, negotiating the price, and arranging the mortgage.
I wanted it to be the place for our future, with a rose garden in the backyard. The only rose I gave her came from that garden. It was a symbol of what I was building for us. A new beginning. A new life.
There was silence in the room as I stood up and walked over to her. “Yes, Melanie. I bought us a house. A real house.” My voice was confident. “The rose wasn’t just a flower. It was a promise of the future I wanted for you, the life I wanted to give you.”
Her mouth opened, but no words came out. For the first time in her life, Melanie was speechless.
‘But after what you said today?’ I met her eyes, full of tears. “I don’t want to give you this house. And I don’t want to live in it with you.”
Her face contorted.
‘Wait, no-’ She ahhed, reaching for me with trembling hands. The mask of the perfect wife had finally completely crumbled.
I backed away so she couldn’t touch me. “It’s too late. Today I saw the price I paid trying to live up to your standards, and how quickly you turned your back on me once you decided I couldn’t meet them. I’m filing for divorce.”
As soon as I said that, a weight I hadn’t even realised had lifted from my shoulders. Years of trying to be good enough, bending to her expectations, years of swallowing my pride, it was all gone.
‘Wait, we can talk about this!’ – She begged, her voice cracking. “I was just upset! I didn’t mean it! Please, you can’t do this to me!”
I shook my head, walking past her. I had spent years giving her everything I could, and she had spent years proving that it was never enough.
As I walked away, her screams turned into sobs, then sobs, then silence.
My footsteps echoed through the house we shared, past the memories we’d made, and into a future that was suddenly lighter, clearer, more real than anything we’d built together.
