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When Sam arrived at my house after work that night, my face was still a red, puffy mess from crying. “Tough day, Babe?” he asked with concern.
I felt like screaming at him that of course it was a tough day and that it was completely his fault, but some logical side of me knew that ranting like that wouldn’t accomplish anything. I ended up just nodding in answer to his question.
“Well, I have a surprise that might help you feel better.” He gave me that teaser, then waited for my response.
I tried to hold out, pretending like I didn’t care what surprise he had in store for me, but it was more than I could handle. “What’s the surprise?” I asked quietly.
He pretended like he didn’t hear me and made me ask again. When I did, he said, “Are you sure you want to know now? I thought we coul
