I bought my husband his dream watch for our tenth anniversary.
It was perfect, gleaming under the lights of the jewelry store, wrapped in silk ribbon. I imagined the smile on his face, the way he would lift it from the box, eyes lighting up.
All he gave me in return was a small perfume bottle—a cheap plastic thing, the kind you could find anywhere.
I was furious. I tossed it aside immediately, letting the disappointment sting, refusing to even breathe in its scent.