He gazed at me as if the world began and ended with us. "Honey, happy fifth anniversary!" he declared, his voice filled with affection.
I smiled, but I didn’t respond. Because I hadn’t forgotten—our fifth anniversary was three days ago.
As he fastened the necklace around my neck, he leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Honey, I’m sorry. There was an emergency at the company a few days ago—someone caused trouble, and I had to step in."
I nodded, signaling my understanding. His shoulders relaxed visibly, as if a weight had been lifted.
The applause erupted as we embraced in front of the crowd, a perfect image of a happy couple. But as his arms wrapped around me, I caught a faint, unmistakable scent lingering on his shirt—a sweet perfume that no man would wear.
A perfume that belonged to another woman.
I pulled back slightly and reached into my bag, retrieving an envelope. "I have a gift for you, too," I said with a soft smile, handing it to him.
Curiosity lit up his face as he accepted it, pressing the envelope against his chest like a cherished treasure. "Open it in fifteen days," I added, my tone light. "It’ll be a surprise."