I Left My Wife in the Restaurant on Our 10th Anniversary – When Her Mom Heard Why, She Suggested I File for Divorce

As we sat down, I asked Fiona a question. She glanced up, startled, and said, “Oh, yeah. Just checking something quick.” I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. This was supposed to be our special night, but she seemed a million miles away. The waiter arrived with menus and asked, “Can I interest you in our anniversary special? A bottle of champagne to start?”

“That sounds perfect,” I replied, smiling at Fiona. “What do you think, honey?” She was still staring at her phone. “Hm? Oh, sure. Whatever you want.” I sighed and ordered the champagne. As the waiter walked away, I reached across the table and gently touched Fiona’s hand. “Hey, can we maybe put the phones away? It’s our anniversary.”

Fiona looked guilty. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just this new video series I found—”

I tried to keep the irritation out of my voice. “Another prank channel?”

“They’re hilarious, Aidan! You should see some of these—” she started, but I tuned out as she excitedly described the latest viral prank. My mind drifted back to the past few weeks, and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.

It had all started innocently enough, with Fiona showing me funny videos on her phone. We’d both laughed at them together. But then she began trying to recreate the pranks at home. There was the time she jumped out from behind the shower curtain, nearly giving me a heart attack. Then there was the fake spider in Nora’s lunchbox that made our daughter cry, and the “broken” glass prank that left Callum afraid to touch anything in the kitchen for days. Each time, Fiona would laugh it off. “It’s just a joke!” she’d say. “Don’t be so serious!” But I’d seen the fear in our kids’ eyes, felt the constant tension in my own shoulders. It wasn’t funny anymore. It was exhausting.

I snapped back to the present as the waiter returned with our champagne. Fiona was still talking, animatedly gesturing as she recounted some YouTuber’s latest stunt. Suddenly, she stood up abruptly. “I need to use the restroom. Be right back.” I watched her walk away, a sense of unease growing in my stomach. Something felt off.

A commotion erupted behind me. I turned to see Fiona stumbling between tables, clutching her throat. “I can’t breathe!” she gasped, falling to her knees. “Help me!”

The restaurant descended into chaos. People rushed to her side, calling for help. I sat frozen, unable to process what was happening. Then Fiona started laughing. “Just kidding!” she announced, getting to her feet. “It was a prank!”

The silence that followed was deafening. I felt the eyes of every patron boring into me. Fiona grinned, oblivious to the horror on everyone’s faces.

“Ma’am, that was extremely inappropriate,” the manager said as he approached our table. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

I stood up, grabbing my coat. “I’m leaving,” I said, my voice tight with anger. “Without my wife. You can get an Uber home on your own.” Fiona’s smile faltered. “Aw, come on. It was just a joke!”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t even look at her. I rushed out to the car and drove off before she had time to react—besides, she needed to settle the bill anyway.

As soon as I got home, I went straight to the kids’ rooms. “Pack a bag,” I told Nora and Callum. “We’re going to Uncle Declan’s for a bit.”

An hour later, I was knocking on my brother’s door with two sleepy kids in tow. Declan took one look at my face and ushered us inside without a word. “Guest room’s all yours,” he said, helping me with the bags. “Want to talk about it?”

I shook my head. “Not tonight. Thanks, bro.”

My phone buzzed incessantly with messages from Fiona, but I ignored them and tried to sleep. The next morning, I woke up to find 37 missed calls and twice as many texts. I scrolled through them, my anger reigniting. “You’re overreacting.” “It was just a joke!” “How could you embarrass me like that?” “You owe me an apology.”

I tossed the phone aside, disgusted. How could she not see how wrong she was? As if on cue, my phone rang again. This time, it was Greta, Fiona’s mom. I hesitated before answering. “Aidan! What’s this I hear about you abandoning my daughter at a restaurant?” Greta’s voice was shrill with indignation.

I took a deep breath. “Hi, Greta. It’s not what you think.”

“Oh? Then explain it to me, young man. Because from where I’m standing, you left your wife alone on your anniversary. That’s pretty low.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. “Fiona pulled a prank, Greta. A bad one. She pretended to choke in the middle of a crowded restaurant.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “She did what?”

I recounted the events of the previous night, including Fiona’s recent obsession with pranks and how it was affecting our family. When I finished, Greta was quiet for a long moment. Then she sighed heavily. “Oh, Aidan. I had no idea it had gotten this bad.”

“Yeah, well. Now you know.”

“I… I don’t know what to say. If things are really this bad, I… I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted a divorce.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. Divorce? Is that where we were headed?

“I don’t know, Greta,” I said honestly. “I just need some time to think.”

After we hung up, I sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands. Was this really the end of our marriage? I spent the day in a daze, mechanically going through the motions of caring for the kids. By evening, I’d made a decision. I called Fiona. “Meet me at the restaurant tomorrow at 7 p.m. We need to talk.” She agreed immediately, sounding relieved. I hung up before she could say more.

The next night, I arrived at the restaurant early. My palms were sweaty as I clutched the envelope containing the divorce papers I’d had drawn up that afternoon. Fiona walked in, looking smaller and more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her hair disheveled. “Hi,” she said softly as she took a seat next to me.

“Hi,” I replied, my throat tight. We sat in awkward silence for a moment. Then Fiona burst out, “Aidan, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you or the kids. I just got carried away with the pranks and—”

I held up a hand to stop her. Without a word, I slid the envelope across the table. Fiona’s hands shook as she opened it. Her eyes widened as she realized what she was looking at.

“No,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Please, Aidan, no. We can work this out. I’ll stop the pranks, I promise. Please don’t leave me.”

I let her cry for a moment, my own eyes stinging. Then I took a deep breath. “It’s a prank,” I said quietly.

Fiona’s head snapped up. “What?”

“The divorce papers. They’re not real. It’s a prank.”

Her mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. I leaned forward, my voice intense. “This is what it feels like, Fiona. This is how your pranks make us feel. Scared, hurt, betrayed. Is this what you want for our family?”

Fiona’s face crumpled. “No,” she sobbed. “God, no. I’m so sorry, Aidan. I never realized…”

I reached across the table and took her hand. “I love you, Fiona. But this has to stop. No more pranks. Ever. Can you promise me that?”

She nodded vigorously, squeezing my hand. “I promise. No more pranks. I’ll delete all those stupid videos. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. “Okay,” I said. “Then let’s go home.”

As we stood to leave, Fiona hesitated. “Aidan? Thank you for not giving up on us.”

I pulled her into a hug, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. “We’re in this together,” I murmured. “For better or worse, remember?”

She laughed softly, a sound I realized I’d missed. “I remember. Let’s aim for ‘better’ from now on, okay?”

I nodded, feeling cautiously optimistic for the first time in weeks. As we walked out of the restaurant hand in hand, I knew we had a long way to go. But at least now, we were on the same page. And there wasn’t a prank in sight.

What would you have done?