Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26: THE NEW ANNIVERSARY
They didn’t celebrate their wedding anniversary that year.
The date on their marriage certificate felt like it belonged to two strangers who had stood in a grand church, terrified of making a mistake, performing for a crowd that Diane had orchestrated.
Instead, they celebrated a Tuesday in October.
It was exactly one year since the night Michael had taken off his suit jacket, laid it over the chair, and stayed.
Emma didn’t buy him a watch. Michael didn’t buy her jewelry.
When Michael came home from work, he walked through the door carrying a large, awkwardly shaped cardboard box. He set it on the kitchen island.
"Happy Anniversary," he said.
Emma opened it.
It was a toaster. A bright, cherry-red, slightly retro toaster with four wide slots.
Emma looked at it, then looked at Michael.
"The old one has been burning the left side of the bread for three years," Michael explained, slipping his arms around her waist from behind. "And you always eat the burnt piece so Oliver and I can have the good ones."
Emma stared at the bright red appliance.
It was so remarkably mundane. It was so perfectly observant.
It wasn't a grand romantic gesture designed to buy forgiveness. It was a testament to the fact that he watched her. That he noticed the small, silent sacrifices she made in the kitchen every morning.
Emma turned around in his arms and kissed him.
May you like
They plugged it in. They made four pieces of perfectly golden toast for dinner, slathered them in butter, and ate them standing at the counter.
It was the best anniversary meal of their lives.
