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“What do you have planned for next Saturday?” Josh asked after our last hole.
I pulled out my phone to look and felt my heart rate skyrocket.
“Ohhhh, fuck,” I groaned. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“What?” Josh asked, sounding worried.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and said, “Today’s my anniversary.”
Josh looked at his watch.
“Dude, it’s nine o’clock at night…and you’re just now realizing that it’s your anniversary?” he asked incredulously.
Yep.
That was me.
The king of all dumbasses.
By the time I got home an hour later, everything in the house was quiet.
There were no lights on, the dogs were put up for the night, and the only thing I could hear was the ticking of the clocks on the wall.
I winced.
It was only ten o’clock, and it wasn’t usual for the house to be that quiet that early.
Meaning I was definitely in trouble.
Big, gargantuan trouble.
I found her washing dishes, standing next to the sink wearing one of my t-shirts and nothing else.
“You went to dinner?” I asked, feeling gutted at seeing the name on the bag of food on the counter.
She’d gone to dinner with my kids and just herself, to a fancy-ass restaurant that I’d been wanting to take her out to for ages.
“Yeah,” she said, voice sounding sleepy. “We spent about three hundred dollars. Lachlan ordered crab and steak. So, the other two had to order it, too.” She sighed. “They didn’t eat but half of it, so I took the rest of it home to your dad and mom.”
My heart pinched.
“Was it any good?” I asked, unsure of whether or not she was mad enough to not want me to touch her.
“The best,” she said.
I came up behind her and pressed her into the sink, putting both hands on the sink beside her.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I said, dropping my forehead to her shoulder. “I’m a dumbass.”
She snorted, then finished washing the pot that was still in her hands before turning the water off.
I backed away and grabbed a towel.
She took it, wiped her hands, then turned.
