“IT’S TIME TO GET DIVORCED.”

Thomas continued, his voice now a little more composed. “I ordered two cakes from the same place and the same courier company. One was for you—a classic red velvet that was supposed to say ‘Happy First Anniversary, My Love.’ The other was for Sarah, a chocolate one with the joke message. The courier must have mixed them up.”

“But… the emergency meeting?” I asked, looking down at my perfect dress.

“There is no emergency meeting. I’m at the airport right now, about to get on a plane to Miami. I was going to surprise you with a long weekend trip. I even booked a beautiful hotel on the beach. I had a whole plan, Anna. And now… now I have to figure out how to get to your house and then to the airport to catch our flight, so we can celebrate for real.”

I looked at the cake on the counter. The cruel message now seemed absurdly funny. It was a testament to the chaotic, silly, and wonderful first year we had together.

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