My husband gave me a shower gel for my birthday.

I didn’t show it to him, but deep down, I was hurt—really hurt. We didn’t have money problems. No debts. No emergencies. And yet… this was it? A generic bottle of shower gel?

I checked our bank account to be sure. Plenty of money. His business was doing fine too. He could’ve at least brought home a bouquet or written a card. But instead, he handed me a bottle with a scent he knew I couldn’t stand. It felt like he hadn’t thought of me at all.

I tried to brush it off, but the more I stared at that bottle, the more upset I became. My birthday felt forgotten. Unseen. I ended up crying in the bathroom and, in a dramatic fit of frustration, poured the gel down the toilet and threw the empty bottle in the trash.

Later that evening, my husband came home smiling.

“Did you find it?” he asked, eyes twinkling with excitement.

“Find what?” I said, confused.

“The surprise,” he grinned. “I hid it in the shower gel cap.”

My stomach dropped.

He raced to the bathroom. The look on his face when he saw the empty bottle and the toilet… I’ll never forget it. Without a word, he put on gloves and started digging—literally digging—for the ring he’d tucked inside.

I just stood there, frozen with guilt. He’d planned a sweet surprise. I’d flushed it—along with all my assumptions—away.