My ex-fiancée’s mother never liked me. One holiday, she invited me to a family dinner. When I walked in, everyone was staring at me, exchanging smirks with each other. My ex quietly suggested I just go home, but I thought leaving would be rude. Then, my ex’s mom handed me a long, oddly shaped box.
“This is for you, dear,” she said with a strange smile. When I opened it, my skin crawled. Inside was a fitness tracker.
I froze, realizing what this was about. Later, I overheard her whispering to a guest, laughing about how it might “finally help me do something about my size.” My ex said nothing. That was the last holiday I ever spent with them.
