The message.
Last night was amazing. Your wife didn’t notice anything, did she?
I pressed myself against the wall.
Robert sighed.
“I hate lying to her.”
The woman answered,
“Then stop calling it lying. You’re surprising your wife for your thirty-first anniversary.”
I blinked.
What?
For a few seconds, I honestly thought I had misunderstood.
Then the woman continued.
“The musicians rehearsed until almost eleven. The dinner setup is finished. Her old photographs are already on the screens. And the ring arrived this morning.”
The ring.
The black box.
My knees suddenly felt weak.
Robert opened a door farther down the hallway.
Through the narrow gap, I saw part of a large private dining room.
And then I saw something that made me cover my mouth.
Photographs.
Dozens of them.
Me at twenty-five.
Robert and me on our wedding day.
Our first apartment.
Me holding our daughter as a baby.
