The week leading up to Jake’s mother Helena’s sixtieth birthday was a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. For his family, it wasn’t just a birthday; it was a gala event. Dinner was at Le Ciel, a three-Michelin-starred restaurant known not only for its cuisine but also for its privacy and elite clientele. Jake showed me photos of the place, with its vast crystal chandeliers and terrace overlooking the entire city. He spoke of champagne fountains and a menu without prices, a detail that made his mother feel like royalty.
My anxiety, however, didn’t come from the place, but from the hostess. Helena was a woman who assessed you in seconds and placed you in a category from which it was almost impossible to escape. I was, in her opinion, an “average person.” To her, my job as an editor at a small publishing house and my middle-class family were proof of my place in the world. And that place wasn’t next to her son.
I always did my best to please her, but her every smile seemed more like an effort than a genuine act. She was a force of nature, a woman of power and appearances, and I, in her eyes, was a flaw in her perfect picture. The dinner invitation hadn’t come directly from her, but through Jake, and that was a victory in itself.
That Saturday morning, as I watered my plants, my mind raced, mentally rehearsing my dinner speech. I would wear a designer black dress, my hair would be impeccable, and my demeanor would be that of a confident woman. Jake was in the living room, reading the newspaper with his usual carefree smile on his face.
“Hey,” he said suddenly, his voice more casual than the moment required. “I have something to tell you.”
My heart stopped. He knew. He knew how much his mother’s approval meant to me. “What is it?”
He folded the newspaper and looked at me. My life seemed to be in slow motion. The colors in the room seemed brighter, the sounds clearer, my breathing more labored. “My mother agreed to invite you…” he said, his voice soft. Relief washed over me, but he didn’t stop. “…but only if you agree to ONE CONDITION.”
The ground seemed to open up. “Back?” I asked in disbelief.
He tried to reassure me. “Don’t be mad,” he said, his fake smile on his face. “It’s just a little thing. You’ll have to do something to have the honor of coming.”
I looked at him, my eyes filled with uncertainty. His lack of remorse surprised me. He was asking me to humble myself, but it felt like he was asking me to pass the salt.
“What… kind of thing?” I asked, my voice filled with fear.
“I promised I wouldn’t tell you,” he said, his smile fading. “My mom wants it to be a surprise. She said if you go, you’ll find out when you get there. If you don’t, it’s okay, she’ll understand.”
My world fell apart. I was being forced into a power game, the rules unknown. I felt used, like a chess piece on Helena’s board. I felt betrayed by Jake. But no matter how much I wanted to say no, I couldn’t. My soul was begging me to say no, but my mind was telling me to go. I was so desperate to be accepted that I was willing to go to hell to be accepted.
The night of the dinner arrived. My stomach was in knots and my hands were shaking, but I kept my head high. Jake, on the other hand, was beaming. “You’ll see,” he said in the car, “it will be the best night of your life.” He had no idea what to expect.
We entered the restaurant. The atmosphere was incredible. Crystal chandeliers sparkled, and the tables were immaculate. Helena was waiting for us, wearing a blue silk dress that highlighted her pale skin and green eyes. She smiled when she saw Jake, but her smile faded when she saw me.
“I see you’ve accepted our condition,” she said, her voice soft and cool. “Good.”
She introduced me to everyone, her family and friends, as “Jake’s girlfriend.” I felt like a child being introduced to adults. At the end, she grabbed my arm and said, “Now, our little surprise.”
She led me aside, to an empty seat. She handed me a silver tray with champagne flutes. “The first job is simple,” she said, a fake smile on her face. “You will serve champagne to everyone. And you will say to each of them: ‘Congratulations on being part of such a successful, appearance-conscious family. It is an honor for me, a mere mortal, to be here.'”
I froze. My head was screaming at me to say no, but my body was paralyzed. I felt like I was being publicly humiliated. My heart was pounding, and my skin was sweaty. I felt like I was in a nightmare.
She looked at me, and her smile faded. “What? You’re going to refuse? You know, I knew you weren’t right for my son. You’re not good enough. And you’re not strong enough. If you refuse, you won’t be accepted into our family.”
I took a deep breath and composed myself. I picked up the silver tray and began serving. I forced myself to smile and say the words she’d told me to say. The guests looked at me, some confused, some with contempt, and some with pity. I felt like a doll, without feelings, without a soul.
When I returned to our table, Jake was smiling. “See? It was just a little thing. It wasn’t so bad, was it?”
“Wasn’t that bad?” I asked in disbelief.
“Of course not,” he said. “It’s just a game, a little game to teach you a lesson. My mother just wants to make sure you’re strong enough to handle our family.”
My anger turned to determination. I wouldn’t let his cruelty destroy me. I would fight.
The main course arrived. The food was divine, but I couldn’t eat. My stomach was in knots of anxiety. The second course was a beef fillet with wine sauce and potatoes. It was delicious, but I couldn’t take a single bite. My stomach was full of anger and humiliation.
When the last guest finished their plate, Helena clinked her champagne glass with her spoon. The sound echoed in the silence of the room. “Friends and family,” she said, “I would like to make a special toast to my future daughter-in-law, Ana. She has shown herself to be a very strong and courageous person. She took on her first job, and she did very well. But now, I have a second task for her.”
All the guests looked at me. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it. I felt like I was on stage, with all the eyes in the world on me.
“Ana,” she said, her voice dripping with irony. “You’ll have to give a speech. A speech about your family, your upbringing, and what made you who you are today. And you’ll have to explain how grateful you are to be accepted into our family. And you have to start with the sentence: ‘I am a product of my upbringing, and I am very grateful for the chance to become a better person.'”
I froze. My mind was racing, trying to find a way to escape. But there was no way. I had to do as she told me.
I stood up and walked to the front of the room. I felt like I was walking on water, my feet felt like they were sinking. I felt like I was on a stage, with all eyes on me. I forced myself to smile, but my hands were shaking.
I took a deep breath and began. “I am a product of my upbringing, and I am so grateful to have the chance to become a better person.” I felt the pain in my gut. I knew she was humiliating me. She was humiliating my family. I knew she wanted to see me cry, but I wasn’t going to give her the pleasure.
I finished my speech. Tears were streaming down my face, but I kept my head held high. I felt strong, yet fragile. I felt like I was fighting an invisible enemy.
Helena smiled. She knew she had won. She knew I had been humiliated. “Well,” she said, “that was a very good speech. Now, back to dinner.”
I went back to my desk and sat down. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I was suffocating.
Dinner seemed like an eternity. I felt like I was being tortured. I felt like I was being humiliated in front of everyone.
When dinner was over, Helena clinked her champagne glass again. “Friends and family,” she said, “I’d like to make one last toast. But first, I’d like to ask Ana to perform one more task. A very simple, yet very important task.”
I stood up. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it. I felt like I was facing a monster.
“Ana,” she said, her voice soft and cold. “You’re going to have to tell everyone a story. A story about your family. A story that made you ashamed.”
I froze. My mind was screaming at me not to do this. I couldn’t. I couldn’t humiliate my family. I couldn’t.
“No,” I said.
All the guests looked at me. Jake, my fiancé, looked at me with fearful eyes.
“What?” Helena asked. “You’re going to refuse? You know, I knew you weren’t the right person for my son. You’re not good enough. And you’re not strong enough.”
I felt strong. I felt powerful. I felt like I was fighting a giant. “I won’t do this,” I said, my voice firm. “I won’t humiliate my family for your love. I don’t need your love. I don’t need your money. I don’t need anything you can give me. Your acceptance isn’t worth my dignity.”
Helena was silent, her mouth open. She couldn’t believe what I said.
“I am a person with dignity,” I said, “and I will not let you take that away from me.”
I looked at Jake. He was pale. He couldn’t believe what was happening. I looked him in the eyes and said, “Jake, I love you. But I can’t marry a man who asks me to humble myself for his mother’s love. I can’t marry a man who asks me to humble myself for acceptance into his family. I can’t marry a man who doesn’t protect me. And I can’t marry a man who doesn’t respect me.”
I took the engagement ring off my finger and placed it on the table. “It’s over,” I said, and turned and walked away.
I walked away, and I felt free. I felt like a new woman. I felt like myself. My new life was just beginning.
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