Just after sending the reply, a picture Sophie posted on Twitter taunted me from my feed. The caption read, [First holiday in what seems like forever. I never thought I'd miss cotton candy! Someone insisted on buying it for me.]
The accompanying picture showed Adrian's hand, with our wedding ring still on his finger. Moreover, the location on Sophie's tweet matched the one Adrian had sent me.
The ring on my own finger felt like a searing ember, so I took it off and threw it into the drawer. Since then, work became my refuge. I busied myself to push aside the churning emotion within. When Adrian would return became a question lost in the whirlwind of activity, a question I no longer cared to answer.
Unexpectedly, he came to the hospital one day to pick me up after my shift. A wave of surprise washed over me as I saw a familiar car parked across the street.
"Why are you here?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. That day was particularly exhausting.
"Did you forget that today is our wedding anniversary?" he answered after opening the door for me.
"Oh," I mumbled, "sorry. I've been really busy and it slipped my mind."