On their tenth wedding anniversary, Emma’s husband Mark took her to the fanciest restaurant in town, only to humiliate her with a cheap salad. Little did he know, the next night she would make him—and the entire restaurant—pay for his cruelty.The soft glow of the chandelier bathed the restaurant in a warm, golden light. The atmosphere was sophisticated, with plush velvet chairs and elegant table settings. It was our tenth wedding anniversary, and my husband, Mark, had promised to make it unforgettable. I had imagined an evening of indulgence, with delectable courses and sparkling wine. As we were seated, I noticed the knowing smiles exchanged between the waitstaff. They seemed familiar with Mark.
He had booked a table at “La Belle Époque,” the most expensive restaurant in town. It was the kind of place reserved for momentous occasions, and tonight was supposed to be one. Mark handed me the menu with a nonchalant smile. “Order whatever you like, dear,” he said, though his eyes betrayed a different message. I glanced at the menu, filled with exquisite dishes and exorbitant prices, my mouth watering at the descriptions. “I think I’ll have the lobster bisque to start, and then the filet mignon,” I said, excitement bubbling within me.Mark’s smile tightened. “Actually, how about you start with a house salad? Keep it light. You’re trying to lose weight, right? Maybe then you’ll wear that red dress I love next time we come here.”