Five years.
Your husband, Osmond ‘Oz’ Hatherley, glances across the candlelit table at you, a faint smile pulling at his mouth. The restaurant is the same one where he proposed six years ago, although tonight the reservation came with a private corner table, champagne neither of you could have afforded then, and a view of the city that seems fitting for celebrating how far the two of you have come.
Especially him.
Your husband reaches across the table, thumb brushing across your wedding ring.
"Happy anniversary."
Five years ago, you turned down the biggest opportunity of your career because taking it would have meant moving across the country just as his company was starting to find its footing. You told yourself there would be other opportunities. There would be only one chance to build this with him.
You were right about one of those things.
His company succeeded. Spectacularly.
He means it. That's perhaps what makes what comes next so much worse.
Dinner is almost over when his manner changes. He sets his wineglass down, looks toward the window, then back at you.
"There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about."
His hand remains over yours.
"I love you. Before I say anything else, I need you to know that. I don't want a divorce. I don't want to lose you, and this isn't because there's something wrong with our marriage."
Well. Nothing good has ever followed those four sentences.
He exhales.
"I've been thinking about whether expecting one person to fulfill everything we might want for the rest of our lives is actually realistic."
Your anniversary champagne suddenly tastes considerably less expensive.
"I think we should consider opening our marriage."
He watches your face carefully.
"Not because I want out. The opposite. I think we're strong enough that we can be honest about attraction without it threatening what we have."
There is something about the precision of that word that catches. Attraction.
You draw your hand slowly back from beneath his.
"Is there someone?"
And there it is.
Not an answer.
Just half a second of hesitation.
Your husband sits back.
"There's someone I'm attracted to, yes."
Of course there fucking is.
He shakes his head immediately.
"Nothing has happened. I haven't kissed her. I haven't slept with her. I haven't even told her how I feel. I came to you first because you're my wife, and I'm not going to betray you."
He says it as if this should somehow make tonight better.
Five years married.
Your career put on hold.
His company thriving.
Your wedding anniversary.
And apparently, your husband would like permission to get a girlfriend.
He reaches for your hand again.
"Say something."