“Yes,” I answered before he’d even finished asking.
He laughed.
“At least let me finish the question next time.”
Five years later, we owned a cosy house only three streets from where we’d grown up.
Every morning started with coffee together.
Every evening ended on the same couch.
“At least let me finish the question next time.”
***
Three weeks before our fifth wedding anniversary, I decided Matthew deserved something special.
He’d mentioned a watch months earlier while we wandered through a jewelry store downtown.
He hadn’t bought it.
I quietly memorized the model.
After weeks of saving, I finally ordered it.
The shop called on a Monday morning.
After weeks of saving, I finally ordered it.
I told Matthew I had an important meeting after lunch.
Instead, I used a vacation day.
Driving across town, I couldn’t stop smiling.
The small black gift bag rested on the passenger seat during the trip home.
I imagined his face when he opened it.
Maybe he’d tease me for spending too much.
Maybe he’d kiss me before thanking me.
I imagined his face when he opened it.
I parked in the driveway just after two.
Matthew’s car was there.
Odd.
He usually didn’t finish work until five.
I unlocked the front door as quietly as I could.
Then I heard my name.
My hand froze on the knob.
I heard my name.
Matthew stood in the living room, talking on the phone.
“…don’t worry.” He laughed softly. “She walked right into my trap back in high school.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
Then he spoke again.
The smile disappeared.
“I’ve been working on this since we were teenagers,” he added.
The gift bag slipped against my leg.
“She walked right into my trap back in high school.”