“I hate this,” he told me the night before, loosening his tie in our bedroom. “Mercy, I swear I tried to switch it.”
I was disappointed as well, but I understood that he did all he could to be there. What happened was out of his hands.
“I was really looking forward to having a relaxed and sweet evening with you,” he complained.
I smiled because in my mind, I was already formulating a plan.
So, I sat on the edge of the bed, pretending to be more disappointed than I was.
“It’s one anniversary dinner. We can celebrate tomorrow.”
“No,” he said immediately. “It’s not the same. Twelve years is not just any date. We deserve to celebrate it on the exact day.”
That should have made me feel even more disappointed.
Instead, it made me even more excited for the plan I was about to unveil.
