Ever since we announced my pregnancy, Avery—my husband’s female best friend—had been all over us with nonstop advice. At first, it seemed harmless, but it quickly turned into something unbearable. The final straw? Avery insisting on hosting my baby shower, even though I had already planned it with my mom and sister. That’s when I decided I had to put her in her place with a plan she would never forget.
My husband, Scott, and Avery met years ago at work. They clicked instantly because they were both in the health field—Scott is a food safety auditor, and Avery is a nutritionist. Naturally, they spent time together, and when Scott introduced her to me, I tried to get along.
And at first, I did. Avery and I bonded over music and our jobs. She became part of our group of friends, and everything was fine… until my pregnancy announcement.
When Scott and I shared the news on social media, Avery was one of the first people to comment. She texted Scott right away: “Congratulations! You two are going to be amazing parents!”
I thought it was sweet at first. But then, the floodgates opened. Avery started sending Scott daily messages about what I should eat, what vitamins to take, and even what brands of baby clothes we should buy.
One night, Scott showed me his phone, looking exhausted. “Jean, look at this. Avery sent another list of things we have to buy. She says we should switch to organic everything.”
I rolled my eyes. “Scott, she’s going overboard. We don’t need her telling us how to raise our baby.”
He sighed. “I know… should I tell her to back off?”
“Just ignore it,” I told him, trying to brush it off. “She’s not the one having a baby. We are.”
But ignoring Avery didn’t help. If anything, it made her worse. She commented on almost everything I did.
If I posted a picture of lunch, Scott’s phone would ding with a message from her: “Jean shouldn’t be eating that. She needs more folic acid.”
Another day, Scott showed me a particularly irritating text. “Jean should avoid caffeine entirely. It’s not good for the baby.”
Scott groaned. “Can you believe this? She’s acting like she’s the one pregnant!”
I shook my head. “I can’t take her constant nagging anymore. This has to stop.”
Meanwhile, I was planning a cozy baby shower with my mom and sister. We wanted something small, sweet, and filled with the people who mattered most. One evening, while I was working on the guest list, my phone buzzed.
It was Avery. “Hey Jean! I’d love to host your baby shower. I already have so many great ideas!”
I sighed and politely texted back: “Thanks, Avery, but my mom and sister are already handling it. I really appreciate your offer though!”
I thought that was the end of it. But the very next day, there was a knock on the door.
I opened it, and there was Avery—her arms piled high with decorations, balloons, and even a printed menu.
“Surprise!” she said cheerfully, pushing her way inside. “I brought everything we need for your baby shower!”
I blinked at her. “Avery… I told you, my mom and sister are handling it.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “But I have everything planned! It’s going to be perfect. Trust me, I know what’s best for you and the baby.”
Before I could protest, she started unpacking her things, spreading pastel decorations across my dining table.
“I’ve arranged a gluten-free, sugar-free cake,” she announced proudly. “And I ordered the cutest eco-friendly party favors. Plus, I made a playlist of relaxing baby music!”
I stood there, speechless. She was completely taking over.
“Avery,” I said firmly, “I appreciate what you’ve done, but this is really something my family wants to handle.”
She gave me a sharp look. “Jean, you have to understand—I just want everything to be perfect for you. You deserve the best.”
That was it. I had enough. Right then, I decided she needed a reality check. So, I smiled and pretended to go along with her plans.
“Thank you, Avery,” I said sweetly, hiding my irritation. “This sounds… great.”
But in reality? I continued planning my shower with my mom and sister at a different location.
The day of the baby shower finally came. Avery spent hours decorating my house, and I watched through our home security cameras. To be fair, she had gone all out—streamers, floral centerpieces, carefully arranged food, and of course, her sugar-free, gluten-free cake sitting proudly on the table. Her carefully chosen playlist played softly in the background.
But she didn’t know the truth.
Because no one came.
The house was silent except for her music. Meanwhile, I was at a warm little café with my family and closest friends. The atmosphere was filled with laughter, chatter, and love. My mom and sister had done an incredible job, and everyone was showering us with joy and thoughtful gifts.
I wanted Avery to see exactly what she had lost. So I snapped a polaroid photo of us all smiling, tucked it into a box with a single cupcake, and sent it off with a delivery driver.
A little later, while I “went to the bathroom,” I checked the camera feed.
I saw Avery open the delivery box. She pulled out the photo and the cupcake, then unfolded the note I had written:
“We know you’re enjoying your healthy options. Just wanted to share a little sweetness from our real party.”
Her face turned beet red. She slammed the box shut, her jaw tight.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzed. Avery was calling. I let it ring. I wasn’t about to let her ruin my moment.
Later that evening, after the café party ended, Scott and I came home. As we started tidying up, the doorbell rang.
I opened the door—and there was Avery, her face flushed with rage.
“How could you do this to me?!” she screamed, barging in without permission. “I put so much effort into that shower, and you just abandoned it!”
I stood my ground. “Avery, this wasn’t about you. It was supposed to be about celebrating our baby. You’ve crossed a line. And the constant advice? The texts? It has to stop.”
Avery’s face froze. She turned to Scott. “You told her about the messages?”
Scott crossed his arms. “Of course I did. Why would I hide something like that?”
Her mouth trembled. “I thought it would work…”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean, work?”
Avery finally broke. Her voice shook as she admitted, “I thought if Scott followed my advice, it would drive you crazy. I hoped it would cause a rift between you two.”
Scott’s eyes widened. “Why on earth would you want that?”
Tears welled up in Avery’s eyes. “Because… because I’ve been in love with you, Scott, for years! I thought if I stayed close, maybe one day you’d realize I was the right one for you.”
The room went silent.
Scott looked at her with pity. “Avery… I’m sorry. But my heart belongs to Jean. It always has. You deserve someone who loves you back—but that’s not me.”
Avery broke down completely, sobbing. “Please, Scott, give me a chance! I can’t stand seeing you with her!”
Scott’s voice was firm now. “Avery, you need to let this go. If you can’t respect our relationship, you can’t be part of our lives.”
Her sobs grew louder as she ran out of the house, slamming the door behind her.
Scott turned to me, his expression softening. He wrapped his arms around me. “Are you okay?”
Tears of relief rolled down my cheeks. “I am now. Thank you for standing by me.”
He kissed my forehead. “I’ll always stand by you, Jean. You and our baby are my everything.”
Months later, I gave birth to a healthy baby. Avery was no longer in our lives, and Scott and I felt stronger than ever. The ordeal had tested us, but it also reminded us just how much love we had for each other.
As I held our baby in my arms, I knew one thing for certain: no matter what challenges came our way, Scott and I would always face them together.