My Husband Forced Me To Host His Birthday Party with My Arm Broken – So I Taught Him a Lesson He’ll Never Forget

“You know,” she added quietly, “men tend to wander when women stop trying.”

She straightened and flashed Jason a smug smile.

I smiled right back.

Because she had no idea what was coming.

About half an hour later, guests were eating, drinking, and praising the food.

“This is incredible,” one of Jason’s coworkers said. “You really went all out.”

Jason raised his beer. “Yeah, we love hosting. She’s great at this kind of thing.”

Every few minutes, his voice rang out across the room:

“Babe, can you grab more napkins?”
“Babe, the chips are running low.”
“Babe, we’re almost out of dip.”

Maria and her coworker handled everything smoothly while I stayed seated, watching it unfold.
Then the doorbell rang.

Without even looking my way, Jason snapped his fingers. “Can you get that?”

I didn’t move.

“Not this time,” I said pleasantly. “You should answer it. I’ve got a surprise for you. You’ll want to see this.”

He frowned. “What kind of surprise?”

“Just open the door.”

With an annoyed sigh, he walked over and pulled it open.

His expression shifted instantly.

Standing there were three people:
a man in a suit holding a folder, the manager from the cleaning company, and Maria—no longer in the kitchen.

The room fell silent, like the sound had been dialed down.

The man in the suit spoke first.

“Are you Jason?”

“Yes,” Jason said cautiously. “Why?”

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