I took my girlfriend to a fancy dinner for our anniversary.

“He looked at me like I didn’t belong there,” she whispered.

I took her hand.

“Then we’re going back so he can explain why.”

At five o’clock, we walked into the restaurant again.

This time, I wore my work suit. Not expensive, but clean. Ava wore a navy dress and a cardigan that covered the faint wine stain on her cream one because she refused to give them continue reading …