Daniel looked at the papers. Then at his mom. His jaw clenched, and he said, voice low but crystal clear:
“Are you out of your mind?”
The room went dead silent. Cheryl blinked, still smiling like it was all some cute joke.
He stood up, held the papers out in front of him, and ripped them straight down the middle — then again — until they were shredded confetti on the floor.
“Mom, this is not love. This is manipulation,” he said. “You don’t get to decide who I marry. Or how I live. Or what family means to me.”
“But Daniel,” Cheryl stammered, her voice rising, “she’s changed you! I see it — you’re distant, you don’t call me as much, you—”
He cut her off. “No, Mom. I’ve grown up. You just don’t like not being in control anymore.”
The church friends looked mortified. His sister had her hand over her mouth. Even the lawyer friend was frozen, halfway through sipping his drink.
Daniel turned to me, eyes soft now. “You’re my family. You and the life we’re building — that’s everything to me.”
Then he turned back to Cheryl. “And you just made it very clear why I needed boundaries a long time ago.”
And then came the twist no one saw coming.
Daniel’s lawyer friend stood up, cleared his throat, and said, “Actually, Cheryl, that was a felony.”
She blinked. “What?”
He pulled out his own envelope. “Unauthorized use of legal documents. Fraud. Identity interference. And considering you tried to serve them in front of a crowd, there’s a solid case for emotional distress, too.”
Cheryl turned pale. “But… I thought you were on my side!”
He shrugged. “I’m Daniel’s friend. Not his puppet. Or yours.”
Daniel took my hand, and we walked out together, my heart still pounding, but this time with pride.
Let’s just say that was the last birthday dinner at Cheryl’s house.
And the best gift I got? Knowing without a doubt that my husband would always choose me.