Pauline’s birthday took an unexpected turn when she applied a new cream gifted by her estranged mother-in-law, Annalise. But she never imagined that she would be staring at the mirror in horror the next morning. What had Annalise done?
The aroma of freshly baked cake wafted through Pauline’s modestly decorated living room.
Streamers hung from the ceiling, and a small pile of gifts adorned the coffee table.
Pauline, a woman in her early thirties, with warm brown eyes and a hesitant smile, sat on the couch, surrounded by her immediate family.
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Her husband, Carl, a tall man with kind features, handed her a gift. “This one’s from Mom,” he said, his voice tinged with surprise.
Pauline’s eyes widened as she accepted the package. She glanced at Annalise, her mother-in-law, who sat stiffly in an armchair across the room.
The older woman’s face was neutral, but her eyes betrayed a hint of nervousness.
“Thank you,” Pauline said softly, carefully unwrapping the gift.
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Inside was an expensive skincare set from a well-known brand.
Pauline’s surprise was evident as she examined the products. “Oh, wow. I love this brand,” she exclaimed, looking up at her mother-in-law. “Thank you, Annalise. This is very thoughtful.”
Annalise nodded curtly. “I read that women like these things nowadays. I ordered it online.”
Despite the kind and seemingly normal exchange, everyone in the room could sense the tension.
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For years, Pauline and Annalise had been at odds, to put it nicely. They had vastly different personalities, and the older woman wasn’t keen on boundaries.
It wasn’t until Carl threatened to cut contact that Annalise became more reserved and did not cause so many conflicts with Pauline.
Therefore, this gesture, however small, felt like a tentative step towards reconciliation.
As the party wound down and guests left, Pauline found herself in the bathroom, examining the skincare products.
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Carl joined her, wrapping an arm around her waist.
“I’m shocked that your mother bought me something,” Pauline said, unscrewing the lid of one of the creams.
Carl nodded with a hopeful smile on his face. “I’m just as surprised. But this could be good for all of us, right?”
Pauline agreed, applying the cream to her face. “These things are expensive. I can’t wait to see how my skin looks in the morning.”
But as they settled into bed that night, neither could have expected what happened the following morning.
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***
Pauline stirred awake and felt the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. However, it wasn’t pleasant as always. Something felt off.
Her face burned, and her eyelids felt heavy and crusty. Blinking slowly, she tried to focus on her surroundings.
“Ouch,” she mumbled, reaching for her face. The moment her fingers touched her skin, a searing pain shot through her. “Oh God!”
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She bolted upright, ignoring the way her skin seemed to pull and crack with every movement. Stumbling to the bathroom mirror, Pauline let out a strangled gasp at her reflection.
Her face was a mess of angry red patches and peeling skin. Some areas looked raw as if the top layer had been completely stripped away.
“Carl!” she cried out, her voice trembling with fear and pain.
Her husband rushed to her side, his face paling at the sight. “Jesus, Pauline! What happened?”
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Before she could respond, Pauline’s vision blurred, and she felt herself falling. The last thing she heard was Carl’s panicked shout as darkness enveloped her.
When Pauline regained consciousness, she found herself in a white, sterile hospital room. The steady beep of monitors filled the air, and the smell of antiseptic stung her nostrils.
Carl sat beside her, his face etched with worry. “Pauline, baby. How are you feeling?” he asked, squeezing her hand gently.
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Before she could respond, a doctor entered the room. “Mrs. Patterson, I’m Dr. Rawlings,” she introduced herself with a professional but kind tone. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Pauline recounted using the skincare products she had received as a gift. As she spoke, realization dawned on her face. “The cream… it must have been the cream,” she whispered, gaping at her husband.
Dr. Rawlings nodded gravely. “The cream you used was a professional-grade chemical peel, not meant for home use. It’s typically only used in medical spas under strict supervision.”
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Pauline’s mind raced as she considered what the doctor said. After a few seconds, she connected the dots.
“Annalise,” she breathed, turning again to Carl with wide, horrified eyes. “Your mother did this on purpose!”
Carl’s face hardened as he started shaking his head. “I can’t believe she would go this far,” he muttered, frowning.
As if summoned by their words, Annalise burst into the room, and her face was full of concern. “Carl! Your sister called me with the news. Pauline, what happened?“
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Pauline’s reaction was immediate and visceral. “You did this!” she screamed as tears streamed down her damaged face. “YOU HORRIBLE WOMAN! YOU RUINED MY FACE ON PURPOSE!”
Annalise recoiled. “What? No! I didn’t! I swear!” she said, hurt, and placed a hand on her chest. “I… I saw the products online, and they had good reviews… I didn’t know they were so strong…”
Carl stood up, and anyone could see the rigidness of his body. He was trying to hold back his anger. “Mom, you need to leave. Now. We don’t want anything to do with you anymore.”
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Annalise tried to protest, but several nurses came in to usher her out of the room. When she was gone, Pauline collapsed into sobs, overwhelmed by the idea that her mother-in-law could cause her such harm.
***
Hours passed in a blur of doctors, nurses, and worried family members.
Pauline drifted in and out of sleep thanks to the pain medication which had dulled her senses. When she awoke again, she found Carl speaking quietly with Dr. Rawlings near the door.
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“Carl?” she called out weakly.
He was by her side in an instant, relieved. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Like my face is on fire,” Pauline replied, attempting a smile. “What’s going on?”
Carl took a deep breath, seeming to brace himself. “Mom… she’s been trying to explain something.”
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Pauline felt her heart rate increase, and the monitor beside her began to beat faster. “What could she possibly have to say?”
“She said she didn’t do this on purpose,” Carl began cautiously. “She says she’s been seeing a therapist, trying to work on herself and our family relationship.”
Pauline’s brow furrowed, wincing at the pull of her damaged skin. “A therapist? Your mother?“
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Carl nodded, looking as surprised as Pauline felt. “I know, it’s hard to believe. But she showed me some receipts, and her therapist even called to confirm.”
As Carl explained further, Pauline’s anger began to give way to confusion and a glimmer of something else… hope?
“She told me that she saw the products online, recommended by some influencer,” Carl continued, rolling his eyes at the idea. “She didn’t know it was professional-grade. She was just trying to get you something nice.”
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Pauline closed her eyes, processing this information. Could it be true? After years of hostility, could Annalise truly be trying to make amends?
“I think… I think I’d like to talk to her,” Pauline said finally, although she was still in disbelief.
When Annalise entered the room, her usual composed demeanor was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her hands twisted nervously in front of her.
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“Pauline, I… I’m so sorry,” Annalise began, her voice almost breaking. “I never meant for this to happen. I’ve been trying so hard to be better, to fix things between us. I know I haven’t been the best or easiest mom-in-law…”
As Annalise spoke, pouring out her heart about her therapy sessions and her genuine desire to be a part of their family without their previous animosity, Pauline felt something shift within her.
The anger and resentment that had built up over the years began to disappear. She always felt inclined to believe people who truly wanted to change.
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Pauline was big on second chances, but it was still difficult.
“I want to believe you,” she said softly. “I want us to move past this. For Carl, for the kids… for all of us.”
Annalise’s eyes filled with tears. “You have no idea how much that means to me. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”
While they talked, Carl brought in the skincare products for the doctors to examine.
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It was confirmed that while the products were indeed professional-grade, they were readily available online without proper warnings.
“I’m afraid, Mrs. Patterson, that you should’ve been more careful with the instructions here,” Dr. Rawlings said carefully. “This chemical peel says it’s strong and can’t be used for over five minutes.”
“So, it’s my fault?” Pauline asked, shocked. Carl held her hand in comfort, and Annalise shook her head.
“No, it’s an easy mistake, unfortunately,” the doctor continued. “But it was dangerous.”
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After the doctor left, Pauline laughed awkwardly, and the sound broke the tension. She and Carl apologized to Annalise for immediately jumping to conclusions, but the older woman understood why.
“After how I behaved before, I understand,” Annalise said and smiled at Pauline through teary eyes. It was a genuine grin that only proved how sincere she was.
So, in that hospital room, a new chapter began for their family.
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Pauline reached out, taking Annalise’s hand in hers. “Let’s start over,” she said, smiling back. “Clean slate. Just… maybe hold off on any more gifts for a while, okay?”
Annalise let out a tearful laugh, nodding vigorously. “Deal.”
My Wife Excluded Me from Her Birthday Party – I Was Shocked to Find Out Why
I thought my wife, Jenna, and I shared everything, including our deepest secrets. But when she excluded me from her birthday party, I realized I’d been left out of more than just one celebration. What hurt the most was discovering why.
It wasn’t just the party that stung. It was what it revealed about my wife and our marriage.
I’d spent a year saving for her dream gift, only to find out that I wasn’t enough for her. Looking back, the signs had always been there. I guess I just never wanted to see them.
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
Jenna and I were introduced by our families eight years ago. They thought we’d be a great match, and they were right. At least in the beginning.
She was warm, outgoing, and had this infectious energy that made everyone gravitate toward her. I was quieter and more practical, but I found her enthusiasm refreshing. We went on a few dates, and soon enough, I was hooked.
Of course, she wasn’t perfect. No one is.
I noticed early on that she had a bit of a materialistic streak.
A woman sitting in her house | Source: Midjourney
She loved fancy dinners, designer handbags, and the kind of vacations that made Instagram feeds look like travel brochures.
At the time, I chalked it up to her appreciating the finer things in life. Besides, I wasn’t exactly living extravagantly, but I wasn’t struggling either.
I thought we could balance each other out.
We got married five years ago, and for a while, everything seemed great. I loved how Jenna lit up a room and could talk to anyone and make them feel like the most important person in the world.
A close-up shot of a woman | Source: Midjourney
I worked a steady job as a financial consultant, and while I wasn’t raking in millions, I took pride in providing a stable life for us.
But there were moments, small, nagging moments, that hinted things weren’t as perfect as they seemed.
I remember one time I gave her a custom photo album for our anniversary, filled with pictures of our favorite memories. She smiled and thanked me, but later, I overheard her on the phone with a friend, saying, “Yeah, it’s sweet, but I was kind of hoping for a spa weekend or something.”
A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney
It hurt, but I convinced myself it didn’t mean anything. Jenna had always been expressive, and I figured she was just venting.
Still, the little incidents piled up.
She’d casually mention how her friend’s husband surprised her with diamond earrings “just because” or how another friend’s partner whisked her away for a luxury retreat.
“Can you believe how lucky they are?” she’d say, with a wistful look I tried not to take personally.
But deep down, I started to feel like I was falling short.
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
I didn’t have the kind of job that allowed for extravagant gifts or surprise getaways, but I made up for it with thoughtfulness. At least, I thought I did.
I’d spend hours planning little surprises for her, like cooking her favorite meals after a long day or leaving sweet notes in her work bag.
I hoped those gestures meant more than a price tag.
Then came the conversations that left me questioning myself.
A man standing in the dark | Source: Midjourney
Once, when her friends came over, I overheard them talking.
“So, what did Lucas spoil you with this time?” one of her friends asked.
I heard Jenna laugh sheepishly.
“Oh, you know Lucas,” she began. “He’s more about sentiment than splurging.”
Her tone wasn’t outright dismissive, but it wasn’t exactly proud either.
A woman sitting in the dark | Source: Midjourney
Looking back, I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve realized that Jenna’s world was one where appearances mattered. A world where being “just enough” was never going to cut it.
But I loved her, and I believed that love was enough to bridge the gap between our differences.
I was wrong.
So wrong.
A man standing in his house | Source: Midjourney
A few weeks ago, Jenna surprised me with an announcement that caught me off guard.
“I’m not celebrating my birthday this year,” she said over dinner. “I’m getting older, and honestly, what’s there to celebrate?”
I paused mid-bite and stared at her. Jenna loved birthdays. She’d always meticulously plan a theme, coordinate outfits, and ensure the guest list was perfect. The idea of her skipping the occasion altogether felt off.
“Are you sure?” I asked, keeping my tone light. “You’ve always loved celebrating.”
A man talking to his wife | Source: Midjourney
She shrugged. “I just don’t feel like it this year. Maybe next time.”
Her response didn’t sit well with me, but I didn’t push. Everyone has their moments, and I figured turning 35 left her feeling reflective or even self-conscious.
Still, I wanted to do something special for her.
Jenna loved jewelry but rarely bought any for herself, always saying it was too indulgent. So, for the past year, I’d been quietly saving up for a pair of diamond earrings I knew she’d adore.
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Honestly, saving up hadn’t been easy. I’d skipped lunches out, passed on new clothes, and even took on extra work during the holidays.
The earrings I’d bought were beautiful and I couldn’t wait to surprise her. I imagined giving them to her during a quiet dinner at home. I thought it would be perfect.
But everything changed a few days before her birthday.
I was at the grocery store picking up some last-minute essentials when I ran into Mark, one of Jenna’s coworkers.
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We exchanged pleasantries and talked about the usual stuff until he casually mentioned something that made my heart drop.
“Okay, see ya at Jenna’s birthday party on Friday!” he said with a grin.
“Party?” I asked. I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Yeah, her birthday party. You know about it, right?”
“Oh, yeah, the party!” I chuckled. “Same place as last time, right? I keep mixing things up.”
“No, it’s at that new restaurant,” Mark said. “Le Bijou, downtown. Friday at 7. All friends and family are coming!”
A man in a supermarket | Source: Pexels
I forced a laugh, playing it off. “Oh, right, of course. Just slipped my mind for a second. Been swamped with work lately.”
Mark nodded. “Well, it should be fun. Jenna always throws a great party.”
I managed a smile and a quick goodbye before turning the cart down the next aisle.
Le Bijou was a new upscale restaurant downtown. It required booking weeks in advance and a price tag to match.
What bothered me the most was that my wife hadn’t mentioned a word about that party.
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
For the next two days, I tried to rationalize what Mark had said. Maybe he was mistaken. Maybe it was a surprise party, and Jenna didn’t want me to find out.
But deep down, I knew the truth. She’d excluded me on purpose.
Why wouldn’t she want me there? I thought. Was she embarrassed? Angry? Or had I done something to make her feel like I didn’t belong by her side?
A man looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
The questions ate away at me, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask Jenna outright.
Instead, I decided to find out. I told myself I wasn’t going to cause a scene and that I just needed answers. I decided to go to the party to see why she didn’t want me there.
On the day of her birthday, she seemed quite calm.
“I’m just going out with some friends for dinner tonight,” she said over breakfast, sipping her coffee. “Nothing fancy, just a small gathering.”
A woman smiling at the breakfast table | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, really? I thought we’d have dinner at home together,” I said. “I was planning to bake your favorite cookies.”
“That’s so sweet of you, Lucas,” she smiled. “It’s just that Alex suggested we should go out for dinner, and I didn’t want to say no. We’ll have dinner together tomorrow, okay? I promise.”
“Alright,” I said, trying to hide the disappointment.
She didn’t mention Le Bijou or anything remotely like the extravagant affair Mark had described. A quiet dinner with friends was nothing to raise suspicion over. At least not until I arrived at the restaurant.
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When I walked into Le Bijou, it was as if I’d stepped into a different world. The room glittered with wealth. Sparkling gowns, tailored suits, and the unmistakable hum of privilege.
In the center of it all was Jenna. Her smile was as dazzling as the chandelier above her, but it faded the moment she saw me.
I could see panic written all over her face as she excused herself and walked toward me.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in a low, hurried whisper.
A woman talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
“I came to celebrate your birthday,” I replied. “But it looks like you’re having a ball with your friends. You said you didn’t want to celebrate your birthday this year, but…”
Her face flushed as she looked around. “Lucas, it’s not like that. This is just a casual dinner. I—”
“Mark called it a birthday party when I met him a few days ago,” I said. “This doesn’t look like a casual dinner.”
Her shoulders sagged slightly, and she glanced back at the table where her friends were watching us with open curiosity.
A woman looking away while talking to her husband | Source: Midjourney
“Look,” she said, lowering her voice even further. “I excluded you from the party because… well, it’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“It’s just that all my friends’ husbands always get them these extravagant gifts, and you… well, you don’t. I didn’t want them to compare. I didn’t want them to know that I never get any expensive gifts.”
I stared at her with wide eyes.
“So, you’re embarrassed of me?” I asked. “You’re embarrassed your husband doesn’t earn enough to spoil you with presents?”
Her silence was answer enough.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled the small box from my pocket and handed it to her.
“Open it,” I said.
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Her eyes widened slightly as she unwrapped it, revealing the diamond earrings inside. For a moment, I saw the Jenna I fell in love with. The one who lit up over little surprises and thoughtful gestures.
“Oh my God, Lucas,” she gasped, holding the earrings up for her friends to admire. “These are beautiful!”
She called her friends over, basking in their admiration as if the entire evening had suddenly transformed into a celebration of us.
“Lucas, you have to stay,” she said, grabbing my hand. “Come on, have a drink, let me get you some food.”
A woman looking back | Source: Midjourney
But I couldn’t. Something inside me had cracked, and no amount of praise or attention from her friends could fix it.
“I can’t stay,” I said. “The second part of your gift is waiting for you at home.”
Her eyes lit up with excitement. “What is it? Tell me!”
“You’ll see,” I said, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before walking away. I didn’t look back.
When Jenna returned home later that night, she found the house dark and eerily quiet.
A woman in a hallway | Source: Midjourney
The only light came from the kitchen, where a single envelope sat on the table. I’d left a letter for her.
Dear Jenna,
I spent a year saving for those earrings because I wanted you to feel loved, cherished, and appreciated. You always said you loved jewelry but never treated yourself, so I wanted to give you something special. Something to show you how much you mean to me.
A woman reading a letter | Source: Midjourney
But tonight, I realized that no matter how much I give, it will never be enough. Hearing you say you were embarrassed of me, of us, broke something inside me. I’ve always believed love was about more than material things, but you’ve made it clear that appearances and comparisons matter more.
So, here’s the second part of your gift: FREEDOM. For both of us.
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I’m filing for divorce. I deserve someone who values me for who I am, not for what I can buy. And you deserve someone who can give you the lifestyle you clearly want.
Please don’t contact me. This is goodbye.
—Lucas
Over the next few days, Jenna called me repeatedly, leaving tearful messages begging for forgiveness. She said she’d made a mistake, that she didn’t mean what she said, and that she wanted to fix things.
But I was done. I sent her one final text.
A man using his phone | Source: Pexels
Don’t contact me again. It’s over.
Then I blocked her number and moved forward with the divorce.
Now, months later, I feel lighter, as if a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has been lifted. Losing Jenna was painful, but knowing I’ll never have to endure her constant comparisons or unspoken disappointment again?
That’s a relief I can’t put into words.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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