The familiar ambiance of Mario’s should have filled me with warm nostalgia as Aaron and I celebrated our 25th wedding anniversary. This was where we’d shared our first date, where he’d nervously spilled wine on his shirt while proposing five years later. But tonight, the garlic-infused air and soft jazz couldn’t mask the growing tension at our table.
From the moment our waitress Kelsey approached, I noticed Aaron’s demeanor change. His eyes followed her every movement as she took our order, his laughter at her jokes just a little too loud. When he absentmindedly ordered my usual rather than asking what I wanted, I felt my smile tighten.
“Remember when we came here after finding out I was pregnant with Emily?” I asked, trying to recapture his attention. Aaron nodded vaguely, his gaze drifting over my shoulder again to where Kelsey stood at the service station.
Excusing myself to the ladies’ room, I splashed cold water on my face, staring at my reflection – the fine lines around my eyes that hadn’t been there when we first met, the silver strands mingling with my auburn hair. When I returned, the scene before me stopped me mid-step: Kelsey pressing a small folded paper into Aaron’s hand, his face flushing beet red as he quickly pocketed it.
That night, after Aaron left for a sudden “work emergency,” I retrieved the crumpled note from the kitchen trash. Through tear-blurred vision, I read: “Your wife has been looking at you with such love all evening while you stare at me. She deserves your full attention, especially tonight. Appreciate her!”
When Aaron returned carrying flowers and dessert, his apology came tumbling out before I could speak. “I’ve been an idiot,” he said, taking my hands. “Getting comfortable isn’t an excuse to take you for granted.”
As we stayed up late talking like we hadn’t in years, I realized sometimes it takes an outsider’s perspective to remind us not to lose sight of what matters most.
