A kiss sounded through the speaker.
I couldn’t move.
With my free hand, I quietly ended the call.
That evening, Julian arrived with grocery-store flowers and kissed my forehead.
“Missed my girls,” he said, smiling as if he hadn’t torn my life apart hours earlier.
I smiled back.
“We missed you, too.”
For six days, I said nothing. I watched Julian take his phone into the shower, change his passcode, and spray cologne before every “late shift.”
Meanwhile, I prepared our anniversary gift.
I had planned to celebrate our anniversary with just the three of us, but at the last minute, I changed my plans.
So on Sunday, I hosted dinner and invited both families. Roast chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, pumpkin pie — a normal, cozy American meal.
When the plates were cleared, I stood with my water glass.
“I want to give a toast,” I said.
Julian stiffened.
