My Husband of Seven Years Says I’m His Ex-Wife

Summary

When my husband, Kevin, and I were at our favorite exclusive restaurant, he ordered a T-bone steak and told the waiter with practiced ease, "The usual, and no arugula in the side salad."

I paused, then gently nudged his elbow.

"Honey, did you forget? Arugula is my favorite."

Kevin's body tensed, and he quickly corrected himself.

I even teased him, asking if he was so tired lately that his memory was starting to go.

A week later, I came back to the restaurant alone to unwind, only to overhear the young woman at the next table waving to the waiter with a smile.