We saw this handbag when we were shopping together two weeks ago.
Alan remembered it because I looked at it a few more times.
I had no expression. Alan asked me tentatively, "What's wrong, Donna? Don't you like it?"
I looked up and asked him, "Is there nothing else?"
Alan's eyes were clean and pure, just like the first time I met him.
The friends around always teased that a man's prime time was short.
As time went by, the young man gradually became greasy, and fat, and even grew a beer belly.
But Alan was different.
He was still tall and strong, with a good sense of fashion.
He could attract many girls' attention whenever he walked on the street, like a male god.
When Alan heard this question, his smile was bright and brilliant.
"How do you know I have prepared something else?"
He took out a large bunch of roses from behind and handed it to me.
"Honey, happy eighth anniversary!"
That bouquet of roses was dazzling, but my eyes dimmed.
I might have believed that at this moment if I didn't check Alan's phone last night. He was so sincere and affectionate, with only me in his heart.
But I saw it.
I saw the latest purchase record. I saw that set of sexy lingerie
He bought it for Bailey himself.