He looks at it and then at me. “You shouldn’t have,” he says taking the perfectly wrapped present. We had agreed after our fifth anniversary, we weren’t going to do gifts anymore, but I couldn’t help myself. I know I’ve been neglectful, but this was my small way of making it up to him. He pauses for a moment and then carefully unwraps the gift. He lifts the box open unveiling a Patek Philippe grand complication watch with alligator band and a gold face. His mouth drops open.

“I’ve been looking at this watch for years… but this, this is too much,” he protests while admiring the intricacies and design of the watch face.

“No, it’s not—it’s ten years of marriage.” I pull the watch out. “Look at the engraving.”

He flips it over and on the back is engraved, 5,256,000.

Adam looks to me. “What’s that?”

“That’s how many minutes are in ten years.” I plant a light kiss on his lips.

“You counted?”

“I’m always counting.” I laugh as I help him put the watch on.

He holds out his wrist admiring it. “Is this so I can keep track of every time you’re late or stand me up?” he teases. I roll my eyes at him.

“I’m kidding.”

“No, you’re not.” I tilt my head. I know he’s not kidding.

He lowers his arm and returns his attention to me, placing his hands on my shoulders, running them down my arms. “You’re right, but I love you anyway, Sarah.” He kisses me hard.

After untangling ourselves from a passionate kiss, we make our way down to the kitchen, a large and modern space with stainless-steel appliances, cream-colored cupboards, and granite countertops. I set my briefcase on the island and rummage through the fridge for fruit and water. I take some sliced pineapple and a glass bottle of San Pellegrino, which should tide me over until I send my assistant on a lunch run.

Adam pours two cups of coffee and places one beside my black Bottega briefcase. He removes the used coffee filter from the machine and walks to the garbage, pressing his foot on the pedal to open the lid. Just as he is about to discard the refuse into the can, a brief glittering of silver catches his eye.

“What’s this?” Adam reaches down into the trash, pulling out the source of the luminescence. A torn envelope with a card inside.

“Your mom sent us an anniversary card,” I reply without looking up from my phone.

“And you just… threw it away?” He crumples up his face.

“I read it. Acknowledged it. Digested it. What more do you want me to do with it?”