I thought my marriage was solid until my MIL invited my husband’s ex to his birthday. Before I could react, my mom set me up with mine. I walked into a disaster I never saw coming—and that was just the beginning.
I always thought Alex and I had the perfect balance in our marriage. We weren’t one of those couples who fought over scattered socks or a coffee cup left on the table.
Our arguments never lasted more than an hour, and even then, they felt more like a warm-up for new jokes.
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I had my own café—a small, cozy place where people could sit with a book, enjoy a homemade dessert, and escape the city’s chaos. Alex sometimes joked that my cappuccinos would bankrupt him, I knew he was proud of me.
Everything was great… until he came home with a strange smile one day.
I was scrolling through my phone when he sat down next to me and, almost proudly, announced:
“You won’t believe who Mom and I ran into today while we were out.”
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By “out,” he meant dragging his mother around to buy things she absolutely didn’t need—a monthly ritual of theirs. A mother-and-son tradition.
Sounds nice, right?
And it would be… if MIL, Cynthia, didn’t turn those shopping trips into a full-scale circus performance, juggling antique trinkets that would later gather dust in her china cabinet.
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But Alex endured it all. Because, well, it was Mom.
“Aliens?” I smiled, pulling myself out of my thoughts about Cynthia.
“Amanda.”
My fingers froze over the screen. I slowly lifted my gaze.
“That Amanda?”
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“Yeah.”
Amanda. His ex. The love of his youth. The girl who once thought she was “the one and only” in his life.
“Where did you run into her?”
“At a café.”
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It was an unpleasant coincidence, but I exhaled. It happens. Just a random encounter.
“And how was the coffee?” I asked, lacing my voice with sarcasm.
“Oh, amazing! Because it was your café.”
“Oh, I’m so glad Amanda liked it. Makes opening it all worthwhile.”
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He nodded, completely missing my point.
“Oh, Mom was thrilled! They hadn’t seen each other in so long. And, well…”
“And what?”
“She invited her to my Birthday party.”
Fantastic. Just what I needed. Why couldn’t life stay the way it is?
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“Oh, your mother is really on fire.”
“Babe, you’re not jealous, are you?”
The tea had already boiled over in my hand.
“Of course not. And what did you say to that?”
“Well… I couldn’t exactly say no. That would’ve been rude.”
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I wanted to scream: And did you think about asking ME?!”
But instead, I silently exhaled, swallowing the mix of emotions brewing inside me.
“Babe, don’t worry so much. It’s just a party. Just a guest.”
Is he really that naive, or is he just pretending?
I had a bad feeling about that. And, as it would turn out later, I was absolutely right.
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***
Alex’s birthday was always an event. Not because he cared much about celebrating. He would have been pleased with a quiet dinner and a slice of cake.
No, the real mastermind behind these annual extravaganzas was Cynthia, his mother.
For her, that was a grand showcase. A carefully curated spectacle. A chance to prove to the world she could throw a party magnificent.
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I tried to prepare myself mentally, but nothing could have truly prepared me for what I saw when I stepped into the backyard.
There she was. Amanda.
She looked even better than I remembered. Moreover, she was seamlessly integrated into the party as if she had never left Alex’s life.
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They were standing side by side in front of a giant birthday cake.
What’s happening?
And then I saw the contest.
Of course, Cynthia had organized some ridiculous, over-the-top game. Alex and Amanda were paired in a “Who Can Eat Their Cake Faster Without Using Their Hands?” challenge.
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I wanted to turn away. But I couldn’t.
Amanda laughed too hard, tilting her head down as Alex tried to beat her to the first bite. The whole thing looked… ridiculously playful.
“Oh, isn’t that adorable?” someone cooed behind me.
I turned my head slowly. It was my mother. Perfect timing.
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“Adorable?” I repeated, barely concealing my irritation.
“Well, they do look very… comfortable together.”
I swallowed my retort.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I ran into someone interesting the other day.”
I didn’t care. I didn’t want to care. But she knew me too well.
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“Who?”
“Nick.”
I turned my head fully toward her.
“You mean my ex?”
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“Oh, don’t look so shocked, sweetheart.” She waved a dismissive hand. “You know, he’s doing exceptionally well these days. Owns his own company. Has some high-profile clients. And…”
“Please tell me you didn’t invite him to this party.”
She laughed. “Of course not! That would be inappropriate.”
I exhaled in relief.
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“But,” she added, too casually, “he’s actually looking for a place to host networking events for his clients. And I thought, you know… your café might be perfect.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying—maybe you should meet with him. Discuss business. Make a smart move for your café.”
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“I don’t need his help.”
“Are you sure? I mean, look at Alex.”
I didn’t want to. But I did. And there it was: Amanda, laughing with my husband, holding a huge black cake I’d ordered for him.
I felt my irritation spike to a dangerous level.
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I turned back to my mother, my voice suddenly much calmer than I felt.
“You know what? Fine. Set up the meeting.”
“Oh, wonderful! I knew you’d come around.”
I had no idea what I was getting myself into. But if Alex wanted to play that game, I’d play it too.
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***
I spent the following day mentally preparing myself for meeting with Nick.
I told myself it was strictly business. I reminded myself that I wasn’t doing this to prove a point.
I assured myself I wasn’t being petty or reacting emotionally to Amanda’s little flirtation circus at Alex’s birthday party.
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At least, that’s what I kept repeating like a mantra as I walked into the restaurant. And then I saw Nick. Smiling. Relaxed. Effortlessly confident in that way that used to drive me crazy years ago.
And suddenly, I wasn’t so sure about my mantra anymore. Damn it.
“Wow,” he said, giving me an appreciative once-over. “You look amazing.”
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“Thanks. You, uh… still dress like a business magazine cover.”
He chuckled.
“Well, you know me. Always selling something.”
I sat across from him, trying to shake off the weird nostalgia and irritation that came with seeing him again.
He poured us both some tea and said, “So. Tell me about your café.”
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I started explaining my vision, how I wanted to make the café a hub for creative entrepreneurs, and how I planned to add live events, poetry readings, networking nights…
“Sounds incredible.”
I stopped mid-sentence. There was a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“What?” I asked.
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“You. You’re still the same. Passionate. Determined. Always thinking big.”
“Well, some things don’t change.”
“Some do.”
I was about to steer the conversation back to strictly professional territory when a familiar voice cut through the restaurant noise like a knife.
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“Wow. Well, isn’t this cozy?”
I turned my head. There, standing just inside the restaurant entrance, were Alex and Amanda. My stomach dropped. Alex’s gaze flickered from me to Nick.
“Oh, what a crazy coincidence!” Amanda said, placing a hand on Alex’s arm. “You two know each other, right?”
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I stood up so fast that my chair nearly toppled over. Apparently enjoying the drama, Nick leaned back in his chair with a relaxed grin.
“Oh, we’re more than familiar.”
“You’re looking good, man,” he told Alex. “Married life must be treating you well.”
“Yeah,” Alex said. “It was. Until I walked in and saw my wife on what looked like a date.”
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“Oh, please! If anyone’s on a date here, it’s you two!” I gestured at Amanda.
She clutched her chest.
“Me? Oh, no, no, I’m just supporting Alex. As a friend.”
Alex let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, you’re a real saint, Amanda.”
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Nick clapped his hands together, clearly having the time of his life. “Well, this just got interesting.”
I whipped back around to face him.
“Nick, shut up.”
Amanda huffed. “You don’t need to be so defensive, darling. It’s not like you’re the only one who can enjoy an old friend’s company.”
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Oh. Oh, she did NOT just say that.
Without thinking, I grabbed my glass of orange juice and flung it directly at Amanda’s expensive silk blouse. She gasped, horrified.
Nick let out a loud laugh. Alex picked up his glass of water and threw it straight at Nick. Nick spluttered, soaking wet, and shot to his feet.
“Oh, you wanna play, buddy?” he said, reaching for the sauce bottle on the table.
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“DON’T YOU DARE…” I started.
Too late. Before I could blink, barbecue sauce was flying through the air. The following five seconds were a complete disaster. By the time the chaos settled, the entire restaurant was dead silent.
“I. Am. Leaving,” Amanda declared, storming off in her stained designer dress.
Nick looked down at his soaked clothes, then at me.
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“Well. This wasn’t exactly how I pictured our reunion.”
“You planned this?”
He winked. I groaned. Alex grabbed my hand.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here before someone calls the cops on us.”
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I didn’t argue. We left the restaurant sticky, soaked, and absolutely done with the night. As we stepped onto the street, I glanced at Alex.
“We just got played, didn’t we?”
“Oh, 100%. And I have an extreme suspicion about who’s behind this.”
“Yeah. Our mothers.”
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And just like that, everything started making sense.
Alex and I exchanged a knowing glance, the kind only two people could understand. A slow grin spread across my face as I wiped a streak of sauce from his cheek.
“We can’t let them get away with this.”
“Oh, absolutely not.”
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We embraced and burst into laughter — sticky, soaked, and victorious. Because no matter what our mothers threw at us — our love wasn’t that easy to break.
At that very moment, our mothers probably enjoyed a peaceful dinner together at our house. Blissfully unaware of the little surprise we had prepared for them.
***
When we got home, our mothers were lounging on the couch, sipping wine, looking very pleased with themselves.
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“Oh, you’re back!” my mom beamed. “How was your evening?”
Alex and I exchanged a knowing look.
“Oh, life-changing,” I said, slipping off my jacket.
“What do you mean?”
Alex sighed heavily. “We’ve made a decision.”
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Both moms leaned forward.
“We’re breaking up,” I announced.
Silence. Cynthia gasped. My mom clutched her chest.
“But wait,” Alex added, raising a hand. “There’s good news, too. We’re having a baby.”
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Cynthia choked on her wine. My mom’s eyes bulged.
“You CAN’T break up if you’re having a baby!”
“Well, you two can co-parent.”
Alex nodded. “Or, you know… foster care.”
The horror on their faces was delicious.
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“You… YOU WOULDN’T.”
“Oh, but you thought meddling in our marriage was fine?”
“We weren’t trying to ruin anything,” my mom muttered. “We just… read that book that said love only lasts three years. And well, your anniversary is coming up, and everything seemed so… calm.”
“So, naturally, you decided to light a match and throw it into our excellent relationship?” Alex asked.
Cynthia sighed, rubbing her temples. “We thought a little jealousy would… reignite the spark.”
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I exchanged a look with Alex, half-amused, half-exasperated.
“Well, congrats. You gave us the messiest week of our lives.”
Alex chuckled. “But we’re still standing. Still together. And stronger than ever.”
“Well, now that we’re done with family drama,” I said, grabbing my coat, “how about we finally go eat? You two dragged us through so much that we never got dinner.”
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They perked up immediately. And as we all headed out together, I threw an arm around Alex.
“Oh, and by the way,” I added, “we’re sending you two on a weekend getaway. Somewhere far. Very far.”
Alex grinned.
“Think of it as a little break… from ruining our lives.”
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At 55, Jennifer Aniston’s latest appearance leaves some fans shocked – “What has she done to her face?”
Jennifer Aniston turned out at the Emmy FYC event for her acclaimed drama, The Morning Show, this past weekend, and her look was undeniably captivating.
But while many agreed that the actress looked nothing short of stunning in a sleeveless, deep red dress, complemented by a matching ruby pendant, there were other question marks that arose regarding her appearance. Namely, what sort of plastic surgery (if any) she has undergone in recent months.
The 55-year-old plays TV anchor Alex Levy on The Morning Show, and the Apple TV+ series has proven wildly popular.
The show’s success – coupled, of course, with Aniston’s iconic past as a star on arguably the most successful sitcom of all time, Friends – has seen her reputation surge in recent years. Aniston has never really experienced a ‘dip’ in her career, but her stock has certainly enjoyed a revival since The Morning Show first aired.
Indeed, for anyone old enough to have lived through the era of Friends, it’s almost strange to accept that in five years time, Aniston will be 60 years old.
Time flies, as they say, and even the wealthiest celebrities can’t help but age in front of our faces.James Devaney/WireImage
Or can they?
Well, it’s certainly not something the majority of them readily embrace. Quite the opposite in fact: those with inexhaustible bank accounts tend to doggedly fight the aging process – at least in so far as appearance is concerned – undergoing operations and treatments in a bid to keep themselves looking as young as possible.
Incidentally, Jennifer Aniston was reportedly seen leaving a well-known plastic surgery clinic in Connecticut only a few months ago, prompting speculation that she had gone under the knife.
The clinic in question, The Retreat At Split Rock, is said to specialize in expert upper and lower face lifts, costing around $50,000 to $100,000 each, as well as brow and eye lifts that cost around $30,000 each.
It hasn’t been officially confirmed whether or not Aniston underwent treatment – let’s be honest, which celebrities are completely open and honest about this sort of stuff? – but there are clearly a fair few people online who suspect her look isn’t one hundred percent natural.
Following her appearance at the aforementioned Emmy FYC in New York on Sunday, certain individuals couldn’t resist themselves in pointing out that she looked different to usual.
“What has she done to her face?’’ one wrote in the comments section of a Daily Mail article.
A second added: “Jen is desperately trying to hold on to her old Friends looks. It can’t happen, she is much older now […]’’
“Her face looks weird because of all the work she has had done. She would have looked better with less,” opined a third.
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