The next morning, Polly found him in the kitchen and asked him if he’s fine.
He grinned at her, “Of course, I am. How’s your sleep?”
“Uh, good. Aren’t I supposed to do the cooking today?” She felt a little guilty. Did she sleep in? She’s supposed to get up early. Checking the time, she lamented that she woke up an hour later than she should have.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I wanted to cook something special for us. It’s a special day, after all.”
Polly paused. It is? What’s the occasion? s**t. Was it his birthday? Wait, no. It isn’t. She already knew when his birthday is and it’s still half a year away. So, what’s special about today?
“Uhm, what’s . . . what are we celebrating?” She sheepishly went to help him with whatever she could and immediately set the table.
“Well, it’s te
