‘Happy first anniversary, husband.’ She kissed me softly, her lips sticky with gloss. ‘This is for you.’ She held out a small present and I took it, awkwardly pushing the flowers and chocolates into her arms. We moved onto the sofa, where she opened her card and exclaimed how gorgeous the flowers were while I tussled with the red ribbon wrapped around the turquoise gift box. Inside nestled a pair of cufflinks. I looked questioningly at her.

‘The first anniversary is “paper” so I bought you some paper aeroplane cufflinks so you never forget your dream to travel.’

‘Anna!’ I felt overcome with emotion. A bit of a dick for not researching anniversary rules, I should have known there would be some. I lifted the cufflinks from the box.

‘They’re great.’

‘They’re useless without this.’ She slid out another box from under the sofa and placed it on my knee. I tore off the wrapping paper. A shirt.

‘Strictly speaking, that’s cotton for next year but I know you don’t have the right shirts for wearing cufflinks, so…’

I kissed her hard, wanting my mouth to convey what my gifts hadn’t. That every single one of the 365 days of our marriage I had felt like a lucky bastard.

Now she takes my hand. ‘Oliver, I absolutely have to be with Adam on our anniversary.’

And despite everything, I still feel like a lucky bastard.

Chapter Sixty-Eight

Anna

While I’m waiting for Oliver to decide whether he’ll let me say goodbye to Adam, it hits me.

‘It was real!’ A whoosh of excitement rockets from the tips of my toes to my scalp. ‘It was real!’ I am fizzing with relief that I have remembered the one thing that had been gnawing at me. The single thing that will convince Oliver I had been speaking the truth. ‘Oh my God!’ I clutch his arm, I’m shaky but am grinning so wide I can feel the stretch of my cheeks. ‘It happened just as I said. All of it. I can prove it.’ I rush off to my room. Adam’s case is ready to leave in the corner where I left it. I unzip it and begin to dump his clothes on the floor. At the bottom of the case is a box. ‘You Are…’ is painted on the outside. I tip out the contents; red, yellow, orange pieces of paper float to the floor.

Gorgeous, says one.

Soul mate, another.

Kind.

Coming around to loving Eighties music.

A far better cook than me.

My best friend.

Emotions burn behind my eyes. This must be Adam’s anniversary gift to me. But I can’t allow myself to become distracted by the sentiment. It isn’t what I’m looking for.

Think! Where would he hide something from me?