The Chocolate Cake that Saved My Relationship - 1. Chapter 1

Wow!

Don’t you hate it when you have the realization that you are a goddamn asshole and wish you could erase the past couple of hours? You want to delete every sarcastic, bitter, snarky jibe you threw out. Then you realize you don’t deserve him. How could he possibly still love you after what you just said? Granted, he deserved it. Well kind of. Okay, not really, but I was pissed.

The thoughts going through my head while I was getting ready for the second time before gong to dinner were, ‘What the fuck? I mean, seriously, what the actual fuck? Did he actually forget today was our one year anniversary?’

All week I patiently waited for him to make plans for our anniversary, but the call never came. So, I was pleasantly surprised when he called earlier and asked me out to dinner tonight. I thought he finally remembered what today was.

So, imagine my surprise when he showed up to pick me up wearing old blue jeans and a sweatshirt. I answered the door wearing a nice pair of pants, a button up shirt, and my sportscoat. He looked me up and down and asked, “Didn’t you change after you got home from work?”

I smiled an obviously forced smile. “Umm, no, not yet. I was running late, and umm just got in. I was about to change. Where are we going tonight?”

“Let’s go to Chili’s. I’m in the mood for something easy and laid back.”

I was walking in my room and almost tripped when I heard that. I slammed my bedroom door shut. Hard. Was he fucking serious? Motherfucking Chili’s? I seriously had to remind myself I was completely in love him while I looked at my reflection to stop from killing him.

I took my sweet time getting ready. I walked back into the living room and didn’t even glance his way. I walked to the front door and said in a clipped tone, “Are we going or not?”

I heard him chuckle and he said, “Yeah, babe. Let’s go.” When he got to the door, he kissed my cheek and looked in my eyes. “Babe, I love you.”

And my heart melted a little, but I was still pissed.

Once we were in the car, he asked me without looking my way, “Is everything okay, babe? Did something happen at work today?”

I turned and glared at him. He was so focused on driving and singing along with some Christmas song on the radio, he didn’t see it. If you couldn’t hear the sarcasm dripping off every word when I said, “No, dear. Nothing happened. I’m peachy fucking keen,” then you probably are the world’s dumbest person.

The asshole had the nerve to chuckle. “What happened? You know you can talk to me.”

“One of my students forgot today was a due date for a major essay. He acted like he didn’t care when I told him every day it was late, I would take off ten points. He actually laughed at me.”

He didn’t say anything right away. For a brief moment, he looked like he was worried about something. I thought maybe, just maybe, he had caught on to my not-so-subtle hint. Instead he said, “That sucks. What did you say to him when he started laughing?”

“Nothing, though I now I’m wondering why I didn’t tell him to take me seriously or get out of my room.”

He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. It pained me, because it was my left hand. Parts of me wanted to rage at him. Parts of me wanted to bask in the familiar comfort. Parts of me wanted to yank my hand back. In the end, I did none of those. We were pulling in the parking of Chili’s.

It was a slow night, so we were the only ones sitting in out server’s section. As dinner proceeded, there was an uncomfortable silence surrounding the table. I refused to answer anything he asked, and I didn’t try to ask anything of him. As I sat there in the silence, I watched my boyfriend’s behavior.

I started to get the impression that something was going on between our twenty-something year old server with the piercing blue eyes and my boyfriend. I notice the subtle glances the server would throw his way. I would then see my boyfriend nod ever so slightly. If you weren’t looking for it, you would’ve easily missed it.

My mind started racing. I convinced myself he was cheating on me with this server. So, when the server came and took the last plate off the table and my boyfriend winked at him, I lost it. I stood up quickly, knocking the metal framed chair to the ground and started my rant in a rather loud voice through a steady stream of tears.

“You’re fucking him, aren’t you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the glances he’s been giving you and the way you would nod, thinking I wouldn’t notice. Then you have the audacity to wink and smile at him while I’m sitting right the fuck here! And on our goddammed anniversary, which you seemed to have forgotten about. How dare you do this to me. I loved you. I gave you everything and you proved just how much I meant to you. I hope he’s worth it.”

The look on my boyfriend’s face was one of absolute terror. He was shaking his head and kept opening and closing his mouth, but didn’t say anything. His eyes were starting to get misty when the server in question suddenly appeared at the table with an elaborately decorated miniature chocolate cake, complete with red frosting and a Christmas bow.

The server set it down with a fork, then he picked up my knocked over chair and placed it behind my legs. He then placed a hand on each of my shoulders and pushed me down. He then turned and walked away.

I looked at the beautifully decorated cake with the red frosting and Christmas bow for what felt like hours. My boyfriend stood up and came to my side of the table and knelt by my side. He picked up the fork and placed it in my hand.

I sank my fork into the cake and heard the distinct sound of metal hitting metal. I went to remove whatever was in the cake and pulled out a ring covered in frosting. My boyfriend then took my hand and asked, “Will you please look at me?”

When I did, my breath was knocked out of me. He was on one knee. He looked up at me and said, “Why don’t you clean that off and hand it to me.”

I dipped the ring into my glass of water and wiped it off with a napkin. The ring looked like it was made of white gold and had diamonds going around the whole band in a row in the middle. I handed him the ring and just stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

“I’m going to pretend that I wasn’t just accused of fucking the server and cheating on you. I’m going to pretend that you didn’t used the past tense of love when you said, ‘I loved you.’ I’m also going to tell you that this was the hardest thing to keep from you. I saw how anxious you were all week, waiting for me to make plans for tonight. I heard the relief in your voice when I finally asked you out for dinner earlier today.

“I will admit, when I arrived at your place and asked about what you were wearing, I was amused. You are so fucking hot when you get pissed off. I so wanted to let you know what was going on through the whole dinner, but decided to stick to my plan.

“I can’t imagine my life without you. From the day I met you and asked you out, you were it for me. You made me the happiest SOB on earth a year ago when you asked if we could be exclusive and official. You make my life complete. I love you with every fiber of me being. I love you with every breath I take. I love you with every sarcastic, bitter, snarky barb you throw my way whenever I get you riled up. I love you so much I’m asking you to be mine forever.

“So, can you forgive me for planning a totally awesome, epic, badass proposal at the restaurant we met in and came to on our first date and agree to marry me?”

I looked at him with tears flowing down my cheeks. “As long as when you tell this story in the future you leave out my cheating accusatory rant.”

He shook his head and smiled. “No fucking way. It was classic. I never expected you to go there. I knew you were going to give me shit and I honestly was surprised you didn’t lose your shit earlier.”

“You’re totally going to tell that whole rant at the wedding reception, aren’t you?”

“Oh, hell yes. I was recording it so I have it word-for-word. Now, my knees are starting to hurt. What do you say? Wanna get married?”

“Yes, of course. I fucking love you.”

“And I love fucking you.” (That was what he told me the first time I said, “I love you” to him. In front of my parents and brothers. And that’s why I love this man.)