I was thrilled my fiancé invited me to his wealthy, tight-knit family’s extravagant “Family Day” celebration. They go all out, so I spent months saving for Brandon’s dream gift. But when gift-giving time came, Brandon handed me a tiny box… and a public humiliation I never saw coming.
When my fiancé invited me to celebrate “Family Day” for the first time, I was over the moon. He’s a successful dentist from a wealthy family, and I’m a hairstylist, so this felt like the acceptance I’d been waiting for. After sitting through several family dinners at his parents’ luxurious home, where I’d felt more like a slightly favored member of the staff rather than a future member of the family, this was huge.
And I’d heard so much about their July 15 “Family Day” celebration. They dressed up, sat down together for a nice dinner, made speeches, and exchanged gifts. It sounded really sweet.
“I’d love to be part of Family Day!” I said when he invited me. “What kind of gifts are we talking about?”
Brandon waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, you know.
Meaningful stuff. Last year, my dad gave my mom a trip to Italy, and my sister bought my brother a motorcycle. Nothing crazy, just thoughtful.”
Nothing crazy.
Right. But I had a plan. Brandon had mentioned wanting a PS5 since we’d met.
He’d brought it up during movie nights and even added it to his Amazon wishlist. It was the perfect gift: thoughtful, personal, and expensive enough to show I was serious about us (and impress his family, I hoped). The next three months became a blur of extra clients and pinched pennies as I saved for the console.
I even sold my favorite curling wands, the ones I’d had since cosmetology school. They were like old friends, with their worn handles and reliable heat settings, but Brandon was worth it. When I finally had the $500 and ordered that PS5, my hands shook.
I wrapped it with the kind of care you’d give a newborn, using expensive paper I’d splurged on. Brandon’s parents’ lake house was like something out of a magazine. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the water like a painting, and every surface gleamed.
I felt underdressed despite wearing my best black dress and the heels that made my feet scream, and that feeling intensified under the scrutiny of his mom and sister. But I kept smiling, kept trying. Maybe they were just reserved.
After dinner, Brandon stood up in his sharp tux, glass raised. “Every year, this family celebrates what we’ve built together. This year, I wanted to give back to the people who made me who I am.”
The room leaned in like he was about to reveal state secrets.
The chandelier cast a golden light across expectant faces. “To my parents,” he announced, “I’m giving you my old condo. Consider it your city place.”
His mom pressed her hand to her chest.
“Darling, that’s so thoughtful! Just last week, I was telling your father we need a place in the city for family visits and his business trips.”
“Problem solved,” he replied, grinning. Then he turned to his brother.
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