As we settled into our seats, I looked over at Fiona and asked her a question. She glanced up from her phone, looking surprised. “Oh, yeah. Just checking something real quick,” she replied. I nodded, hiding the disappointment bubbling up inside me. This night was supposed to be special for us, but Fiona seemed like she was in another world entirely.
The waiter arrived, handing us menus with a friendly smile. “Would you like to try our anniversary special? How about a bottle of champagne to start?” he suggested.
“That sounds perfect,” I said, trying to draw Fiona into the moment. I looked at her and asked, “What do you think, honey?” But she was still glued to her phone. “Hm? Oh, sure. Whatever you want,” she mumbled absentmindedly. I sighed and ordered the champagne, feeling a pang of frustration.
When the waiter left, I reached out and gently touched Fiona’s hand. “Hey, can we put the phones away? It’s our anniversary, after all.”
Fiona looked up, suddenly aware, guilt flashing in her eyes. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just this new video series I found—”
I couldn’t hide my irritation this time. “Another prank channel?”
“They’re hilarious, Aidan! You should see some of these—” Fiona started, her eyes lighting up as she began describing the latest viral prank she’d discovered. But I wasn’t listening. My mind drifted back to the past few weeks, and I felt a tight knot form in my stomach.
It had all begun so innocently. Fiona had started showing me funny videos on her phone, and we’d both laughed at them together. But then, she started trying to recreate the pranks at home. One 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 too scared to touch anything in the kitchen for days. Each time, Fiona would laugh and say, “It’s just a joke! Don’t be so serious!” But I saw the fear in our kids’ eyes and felt the constant tension in my own shoulders. It wasn’t funny anymore. It was exhausting.
I snapped back to reality as the waiter returned with our champagne. Fiona was still chatting away, gesturing wildly as she recounted some YouTuber’s latest prank. Suddenly, she stood up abruptly. “I need to use the restroom. Be right back,” she said. I watched her walk away, feeling uneasy. Something wasn’t right.
Then, out of nowhere, a commotion erupted behind me. I turned around to see Fiona stumbling between tables, clutching her throat. “I can’t breathe!” she gasped, falling to her knees. “Help me!”
The restaurant exploded into chaos. People rushed to help her, shouting for assistance. I sat there, frozen, unable to process what was happening. Then, Fiona started laughing. “Just kidding!” she announced, getting back on her feet. “It was a prank!”
The silence that followed was deafening. I could feel every eye in the restaurant on me. Fiona was grinning, completely oblivious to the horror on everyone’s faces.
The manager approached our table, his face stern. “Ma’am, that was extremely inappropriate. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
I stood up, grabbed my coat, and said, “I’m leaving. Without my wife. You can get an Uber home on your own.” Fiona’s smile faded. “Aw, come on. It was just a joke!”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t even look at her. I stormed out of the restaurant, leaving Fiona to deal with the aftermath—and the bill.
When 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.”
About an hour later, I found myself knocking on my brother’s door, with two sleepy kids in tow. Declan opened the door, took one look at my face, and without a word, ushered us inside. “Guest room’s all yours,” he said, helping with the bags. “Want to talk about it?”
I shook my head. “Not tonight. Thanks, bro.”
My phone kept buzzing with messages from Fiona, but I ignored them and tried to get some sleep. The next morning, I woke up to 37 missed calls and twice as many texts. As I scrolled through them, my anger reignited. “You’re overreacting.” “It was just a joke!” “How could you embarrass me like that?” “You owe me an apology.”
Disgusted, I tossed the phone aside. How could she not see how wrong she was? Just then, 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 long 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? Was 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, 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 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 a mess. “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?
