Geri's Anniversary Gift

I bought her flowers and booked our anniversary dinner - but by midnight, I was home alone while my wife discovered what her body had been missing for five years.

I thought I'd planned the perfect anniversary. Fifth year, proper restaurant, the expensive flowers - not the Tesco ones. I'd ironed the shirt Geri liked, made the reservation weeks ago, done everything right. She wore that red dress. The one that turns heads. I told myself she'd worn it for me.

Then Ash walked over to our table. Estate agent. Confident. The kind of bloke who doesn't ask permission before taking up space in your evening. He gave Geri his business card whilst I was in the gents. By the time we left for one more drink, I knew something had shifted. I just didn't know how far it would go.

At Electric Social, I watched from the edge of the dancefloor whilst his hands found her hips, her waist, places I'd stopped being invited to months ago. When she told me to go home, her voice was gentle. Almost kind. That made it worse, somehow.

I lay awake for three hours. Alone in our flat. Imagining. Knowing. Hard in ways I didn't understand and couldn't admit. When her key finally turned in the lock at 3am, I pretended to sleep whilst she climbed into bed beside me smelling of him. Of them. Of everything I wasn't.

The next morning, over coffee in our tiny kitchen, Geri told me the truth. All of it. Every detail. And my body answered in ways my mouth couldn't speak. Now I understand what our marriage actually is. What I actually am. And somehow, against everything I thought I knew about myself, I'm still here. Still hers. Just... differently.