The Forgotten Anniversary

Olivia

The next day, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, tangled and relentless. Who was this Elena woman?

What kind of relationship did she have with my husband? Why was her name in a message from the very same hospital where I had my eye transplant?

But I forced myself to push it aside.

Focus on today, Olivia.

Because guess what? Today is our wedding anniversary! Ihad planned the most splendid dinner night.

Now, let’s be honest, folks-I am not a great cook. I mean, if survival depended on my cooking skills, I’d be in deep trouble. But that’s not the point, right? It’s the intention that matters.

The love. The effort. So, I decided to help Mrs. Roger in the kitchen, determined to prepare something exquisite for my dear husband.

Because that’s what a good wife does, right?

I was elbow-deep in chopping vegetables, the rich aroma of spices filling the air, when I heard footsteps descending the stairs. And then, there he was.

Leonard.

With a smile stretched so wide across his face it was almost too bright, too cheerful-like he had just won a damn lottery.

His eyes were glued to his phone, his fingers moving swiftly across the screen, completely absorbed in whatever had him so gleamed up this morning.

And maybe I should’ve smiled too, should’ve been happy that my husband was happy. But something in the back of my mind whispered otherwise.

Last night.

Was it the message? Was it her?

That damn Elena.

But no. No. No. No. I shook the thoughts away. Not today, Olivia. Not on your anniversary.

Wiping my hands on my apron, I walked toward him, tilting my head slightly as I studied his face.

“Good morning, honey,” I greeted, forcing warmth into my voice as I leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Why are you so happy this morning?”

His smile faltered just a fraction so fast that if I wasn’t paying attention, I would’ve missed it. Then, just as quickly, it was back, his expression smooth as he pocketed his phone.

“Oh, it’s nothing, darling,” he muttered. “Just work-related.”

Work-related?

And then, before I could even react, he was already reaching for his coat, grabbing it from the back of the couch with a speed that screamed getaway.

“I gotta go. Catch you later. Love you,” he added, his words rushed, clipped—like a script he had rehearsed a hundred times before.

And just like that, he was gone.

Out the door.

Without breakfast.

Without even glancing at the perfectly set dining table.

My eyes narrowed, my hands still gripping the apron I had used to clean off the flour dusting my fingers.

Work-related, huh?

My husband, the man who never, ever skipped breakfast-especially not when I went through the trouble of preparing something-had just rushed out of the house without a second thought.

Something wasn’t right.

Something was honestly suspicious.

And I was going to find out what it was.

But not today.

No. Not today, Olivia.

Today was our wedding anniversary. A day for joy. A day for celebration. No dull moments. No unhappy thoughts.

Still, even as I turned back toward the kitchen, forcing a bright smile onto my face, something in the back of my mind whispered…

Prepare for the worst.

***

Just hours before he left, as I was sliding the lasagna into the oven, my phone started ringing. I didn’t hear it at first, but Ms. Roger did. She pointed it out, and I quickly wiped the sweat off my forehead, set the kittens down, and rushed to the living room to grab it.

Leonard…

I hesitated for a moment, just staring at his name on the screen. Why was he calling? Did he forget something? Or… was it something else?

“Hey, babe. What’s wrong? Did you forget something? I said cheerfully, trying to hide the anxious knot that had already begun to form in my stomach. But his voice came through, distant. Cold.

“Hey, love, I’ll be coming home late tonight,” he said, the words clipped, like they were rehearsed. “Don’t wait for me.”

I froze.

The smile slid off my face faster than I could stop it

“Okay, sure… is everything alright?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah. Just some work stuff.”

I tried to hold it together. I really did. But it was just too much. He didn’t wish me a happy anniversary. Not even a hey or a sorry I’m late, I’ll make it up to you. Nothing. I couldn’t even make sense of it.

Was I disappointed? Yes, I was. But maybe he just got caught up with work-lost in his own head like he always does. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. He does. He always has.

At the very least, I can make sure he tastes the meal I prepared for him, right? He’s been a good husband. The least I can do is be a good wife.

Without another thought, I packed up the food, my movements quick, my heart pounding with something I couldn’t name. I grabbed my keys, slipped on my shoes, and headed straight to his office.

***

“Good evening, Mrs. Crawford.” The receptionist- his secretary sat behind a desk typing something on her computer as she looked up the second second, her lips twitching into a polite smile.

I didn’t return the greeting. I just needed to see my husband fast.

“Where is my husband?” I asked, my voice cool, but my patience was already thinning. There it was. The flicker. The hesitation. So small, so quick, but I caught it.

“Mr. Crawford?” she echoed, as if she needed me to repeat myself. I clenched my jaw. “Yes. Leonard.”

She straightened slightly, her hands folding over each other. “He’s not in, ma’am.” Something inside me stilled.

Not in?