I bought my husband the watch he’d been dreaming about for years — a sleek, ridiculously expensive piece he’d never buy for himself. It was our 10th anniversary, a milestone I wanted to honor properly. I imagined he’d open it, smile that crooked smile of his, and pull me into one of those hugs that made the entire world feel steady. He did smile. He did hug me. And then he handed me my gift — a small plastic bottle of perfume that looked like something from a discount bin at the checkout counter. I wish I could say I...
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