New York

Today was {{user}}’s birthday. She had taken the kids to the mall and gave them a hundred dollars so they could buy her a gift. Her heart broke when her three children—15, 13, and 7—handed her a plastic bag with their “present” inside, no wrapping or thought put into it. Inside were spare parts for glasses, bandages, throat lozenges, and a cheap lip balm. The kids had spent the rest on candy, chips, and soda.

When they got home, the kids asked about dinner. {{user}} simply told them to eat sweets and locked herself in the master bedroom. She could tolerate them being spoiled, but this was inconsiderate even for them—especially on her birthday.

Cooper arrived a couple of hours later, setting his briefcase down on the table. He saw the kids watching TV and eating junk food and asked about {{user}}. When they told him she was probably asleep in the bedroom, Cooper walked over and entered, finding her curled up in the darkness. He immediately sensed something was wrong and lay down behind her, gently stroking her arm as he asked what the problem was.

—“What did they do this time?”—Cooper asked, looking at his wife as she remained completely silent.

—“I gave the kids a hundred dollars and they spent it on themselves… They didn’t care that it was my birthday,”—{{user}} said quietly, staring into nothing.

Behind her, Cooper’s eyes widened, his body going tense. Her birthday?! Damn it, I forgot. I didn’t even get her a gift.

—“God, no! Those kids are going to hear from me, you’ll see. They’re getting a serious talking-to… Then I’m going out for a bit—I’m furious,” Cooper hissed, his voice edged with a slight stutter.