Love: A Matter of Conscience

Frank played a soft melody, then shouted, "Adeline, I love you!"

His smile was as dazzling as it was at our freshman gala, when he'd confessed on stage. I'd turned him down, and he chased me for three years.

My friends bet he'd give up, but he didn't.

At our wedding, my best friend toasted, "Frank, you're relentless. No one believed in you back then, but you managed to win her heart. Respect."

Frank grinned. "Marrying Adeline is my greatest fortune."

Now, those words were a cruel joke. I couldn't forgive his betrayal.

When he paid the bill, he overpaid by double.

I tried to remind him, but he whispered to the waiter, "Send the takeout to Dorm #1 of Riverdale University."

I stayed quiet and got in the car alone.

Our anniversary was two days away, and Frank took the day off.

Each year, we'd retake our wedding photos. He once enthused that he loved seeing me in a wedding dress, marrying him annually.

We booked a shoot at the park where we had dated in college.

Under a sprawling oak, he held my hand, and I slipped into memories.

In our broke days, we'd vowed eternal love under that tree, dreaming of a life he'd build for us. Now, I wondered if I could pretend nothing had changed. I couldn't.

A staff member cooed, "Seven years and still holding hands? You guys are adorable, living my dream married life."

I managed a faint smile, silent.

Frank kissed my hand, and the crowd cheered until his phone rang.

The ringtone was a special one he had set for Lila, and his phone charm matched hers.

He'd claimed he bought the wrong one and didn't want to waste it.

He stepped away to answer the call, returning quickly.

"Lila's got diarrhea from bad food. I'm going to check on her." He paused, backtracking. "Never mind. If you want me here for photos, I'll stay."

He sounded like I had begged for the shoot, forgetting he suggested it.

I shrugged. "Go ahead. Lila's health comes first. We can take photos later."

He patted my shoulder and bolted.

The photo team grumbled as I dismissed them. "What's so urgent he'd ditch his anniversary shoot? Wasting our time."

Silent, I went home and packed my things. My flight was at 8 a.m. the next day, and everything was set.

After a shower, I received a package. In it was a stunning ring and a handwritten love letter from Frank.

His text followed: [Happy second anniversary! Gotta work late tonight, but tomorrow's all planned out. I'll spend the whole day with you.]

I changed my flight to 8 p.m. and took a cab to the airport.

Frank called. "Babe, where are you? Why is your closet empty?"

I hung up and boarded the plane.