When my husband pulled his usual last-minute stunt of expecting me to host his family with zero notice, I decided I’d had enough. I played along—but only to teach him a long-overdue lesson about what real partnership means.
I’m Amanda, 25, and I was actually enjoying my weekend—no emails, no chores, no alarm clocks. Just peace. I had my own to-do list in mind but plenty of time to get to it.
Then came Alex.
He walked in like he was about to announce dinner with royalty, grinning like it was no big deal. That smile—so casual it immediately put me on edge—was a red flag all its own.
Then he dropped the bomb.
“Hey, babe,” he said, not even fully looking at me. “My family’s coming over today. Just a little thing. You’ve got about four hours.”
“Four hours?” I blinked.
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