“Don’t.”
She lowered her voice.
“Melissa’s been weird lately.”
I almost asked what she meant.
Then decided tonight would answer enough questions.
At 11:44, Melissa walked past me carrying two drinks.
One for herself.
One for Ryan.
She stopped.
“You really aren’t mad?”
“No.”
Her eyes searched my face.
“That’s disappointing.”
There was honesty in that statement.
I nodded.
“I figured.”
She blinked.
“What does that mean?”
“You’ll see.”
For the first time all night, her smile disappeared.
At 11:52, people began gathering around the cake.
Melissa recovered quickly.
She loved birthdays.
She loved countdowns.
She loved being the center of the room.
At 11:57, someone lowered the lights.
Candles appeared.
Ryan stood two people away from her.
I looked at the wrapped box waiting inside the hallway closet.
My heart was pounding now.
Not because I feared Melissa.
Because there is always a difference between deciding to end a marriage and actually doing it.
Even a broken marriage contains years.
Christmas mornings.
Private jokes.
Arguments you survived.
Furniture you chose together.
The first night in a new home.
Promises made when both people meant them.
Ending it does not erase those things.
It simply acknowledges they are no longer enough.
At 11:59, everyone began counting the final seconds.
Ten.
Nine.
Melissa looked happy.
Eight.
Ryan lifted his glass.
Seven.
I thought of the Linden Hotel photograph.
Six.
I thought of asking her directly.
Five.
I thought of her laughing.
“You’re not leaving me.”
Four.
I thought of Sarah saying not to confuse pain with winning.
Three.
Lily? No children. None. This is our life.
Two.
Melissa looked at me.
One.
“Happy birthday!”
Everyone shouted.
Midnight.
People cheered.
Melissa blew out the candles.
I walked to the stereo.
Lowered the music.
“Wait,” I said.
Conversations slowed.
Melissa smiled again.
“Oh, here we go.”
I went to the hallway closet.
Returned with the box.
A few people clapped.
Ryan moved slightly backward.
I noticed.
Melissa took the gift.
“Trying to make up already?”
A few nervous laughs.
I leaned closer.
“You should have asked why I bought it early.”
Her smile faltered.
“What?”
“Open it.”
Something in my voice changed the room.
Melissa pulled at the ribbon.
Slowly now.
Not performing.
She removed the paper.
Lifted the lid.
The photograph was on top.
For several seconds, she did not move.
Then every trace of color disappeared from her face.
Her eyes flicked toward me.
Then back to the picture.
Ryan saw it from three feet away.
His expression changed too.
Melissa whispered:
“Where did you get this?”
Nobody laughed.
I answered quietly.
“Ben.”