“That’s different. Mom always made sure Dad had everything he needed.”
“Then maybe Dad should have helped Mom.”
He slammed his briefcase onto the table. “This is exactly why Mom says you’re not ready.”
That evening, I stared at our wedding invitations and called my sister. “Tell me I’m not making a mistake.”
“Sarah, do you actually want to marry him?”
“I wanted to marry the man I thought he was. Now I think he wants a replacement for his mother.”
“Then you already know your answer.”
Arguing was pointless, because Robert would just call Mom. So I made a plan. I told Robert I’d arranged a pre-wedding brunch with coworkers that Saturday. “This is why I love you,” he said. “Just be ready by two,” I replied.
Over the next few days, I made several calls. “Everything’s canceled?” my sister asked. “Venue, caterer, photographer. All of it.”
“And Robert?”
“He still thinks we’re getting married.”
“So his karma is losing you?”
“Not quite. I have one final lesson planned. I’ve spent months letting him and his mother humiliate me. For once, I want to stand up for myself. Let’s just say Robert will do all the talking.”
On Friday evening, Barbara called. She was visiting her sister and couldn’t come Sunday. Robert groaned. “Great. Who’s supposed to do my feet?”
I looked up from my laptop. “I will.”
He blinked. “Really?”
“Of course.”
His face brightened. “I knew you’d finally come around.”
I almost laughed.
On Saturday morning, he kept asking when we’d do his toenails. “Relax. The guests aren’t coming until two.” I tucked a small gift box behind the couch. “Another wedding present?” he asked.
“Something like that. You’ll get it later.”
At twelve forty-five, I spread a towel across my lap. “Come on, honey. Let’s do those nails.”
“Finally! Think you can finish before everyone arrives?”
“I’ll manage.”
He took off his socks and put his feet in my lap. I took my time, asking how his mother usually did it. My phone buzzed. Daniel: We’re here.
Right on time. I’d told Robert two. The invitations said one.
Someone knocked. “Who’s that?” Robert asked.
“Let’s find out.” I opened the door. My department director, Daniel, stood there with his wife Susan, Mike, and several coworkers. “Welcome! You’re early!”
Robert looked past me, and his grin vanished. “Sarah. No. You didn’t.” He yanked his feet away. “How could you do this to me?!”
Daniel hesitated. “We can come back.”
“No!” Robert grabbed his socks. “It’s a misunderstanding.”
Susan stared at the towel. “Were you cutting his toenails?”
“Apparently, that’s part of my future job description.”
“She’s joking!” Robert said. “I can take care of myself.”
“Perfect. Then prove it.” I pulled out the gift box. “Your wedding present.”
He tore off the wrapping. HUSBAND SURVIVAL KIT. Inside were nail clippers, detergent, a cookbook, and a note: “Congratulations! Your free trial of having a wife has expired.”
Mike snorted. “Very funny,” Robert muttered.
“Three simple tasks,” I said. “Unless you’re worried?”
Robert glanced at our director. “Fine!”
I handed him the clippers. “First, your toenails.”
“Right now?”
“You were happy to let me do them.”
He bent forward. “Why won’t these open?”
“Try the lever,” Susan suggested.
“I KNOW!” He flipped it backward, and the clippers snapped shut.
“First opponent defeated him,” Mike whispered.
Robert tossed them aside. “I’ll do it later!”
“Next, ironing.” I handed him a shirt. He dragged the iron across the fabric. “Robert, it’s not turned on,” Susan said.
“I was about to! Which setting?”
“Check the label.”
“Where?”
“Defeated by a cotton blend,” Mike muttered.
Daniel folded his arms. “Interesting. At work, you kept telling everyone how independent you were and how Sarah needed training.”
Robert flushed. “Sir, I was joking!”
“Doesn’t look like Sarah was laughing.”
Robert slammed the iron down. “This is pointless!”
“Last chance. Make yourself a sandwich.”
“I’m not doing your job to entertain everyone!”
Susan stared. “Her job?”
“Marriage is about taking care of each other!”
“Then what do you do for me?” I asked.
“I pay for dinner sometimes.”
“So does DoorDash,” Mike muttered. Susan laughed.
Daniel looked at Robert. “If you’re this helpless at work, too, you can forget that promotion.”
“Sir, I’m excellent at my job!”
“Then perhaps you should stop treating your fiancée like she’s incompetent.”
Robert pointed at me. “You planned this to humiliate me!”
“I gave you three chances to prove me wrong.”
“I’m perfectly capable!”
“Then why didn’t you finish anything?”
“Because that’s what wives are for!”
The room fell silent.
“Robert,” Daniel said, “I think you’ve said enough.”
Robert turned to me. “This is why Mom says you’re not ready for marriage!”
“Funny. I was thinking the same about you. Your mother cuts your toenails. You can’t iron a shirt. And making lunch is beneath you.”
“Mom always took care of Dad! I just want a wife who takes care of me like Mom did!”
“That’s not a partnership,” Susan said.
“Whatever! Mom says every woman needs training!”
I nodded. “Then it’s a good thing I won’t need any.” I took off my engagement ring. “I’m not marrying you.”
He laughed nervously. “Sarah, stop.”
“I canceled the wedding two days ago. Everything’s canceled. My family knows.”
“You what? You can’t do that!”
“I already did.”
He stared at the ring. “But where am I supposed to live?”
“We’ll agree on a move-out date.”
“And who’s going to help me with everything?”
There it was. Not I love you. Just a grown man worried about his laundry.
I pushed the box toward him. “Keep it. You’ll need it.”
Mike glanced inside. “Especially the cookbook.”
Daniel collected his coat. “Robert, I hope to see the professional version of you Monday.” The guests filed out.
Robert immediately called his mom. Minutes later, my phone rang. “How dare you embarrass my son!”
“He had three chances to impress everyone.”
“You’ve ruined his future!”
“No. I’ve returned responsibility for it.”
“He needs someone to take care of him!”
“Then teach him how.” I hung up.
Robert moved out over the following weeks. My sister helped me rearrange the apartment. “Did he take everything?”
“Almost. He left the toaster.”
“Does it work?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
“And the survival kit?”
“He took it. I hope he uses it. Those clippers weren’t cheap.”
She laughed. “Any regrets?”
“Only that I spent three years making excuses for him.”
“Could have been thirty.”
“True.”
“So what happens when the next charming guy comes along?”
“I’ll watch what he does, not what he promises.”
“And if his mother brings nail clippers?”
“I’ll show them both the door.”
My sister laughed. For three years, I’d worried about being a good enough wife.
Turns out, I needed to learn how to stand up for myself.
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