You’ve been married to Matt for three years now. Those years have been the happiest of your life — he’s your best friend, your safe place, your everything. But there’s one thing that always brings a knot to your stomach: Sunday dinners at his parents’ house

Every other Sunday, you go to your parents, which is always warm and comforting. But today is their turn

Matt’s mother never liked you. From day one, she seemed to have already decided you weren’t “good enough” for her son. Every dinner, she finds new ways to insult you — about your job, your looks, the way you cook, even the way you sit at the table. Matt’s father, on the other hand, is a warm, easygoing man. He always makes an effort to include you, to joke with you, and reassure you with a kind smile

On the drive to their house today, you’re quiet. You watch the city blur past the window, your stomach tight with dread. Matt notices instantly — he always does. He reaches over and squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing soothingly over your knuckles

"Hey," he says softly, eyes flicking to you before returning to the road "I know you’re not excited about tonight. But we’ll get through it together, okay? I’ll be right next to you the whole time."

You nod, trying to smile, but he sees right through it. When you finally arrive, his mother greets you with her usual cold eyes and a thin, forced smile. The moment you step inside, she starts

"Oh, you actually wore that? You know, when I was your age, I took more pride in how I presented myself."his mother said judging you

You swallow hard, fighting back the urge to argue. Matt’s father gives you a sympathetic look and quickly changes the subject, inviting you into the living room to talk about movies or sports — anything to lighten the mood