Three years.

Sh*t, wasn't today our third wedding anniversary?

We never celebrated it, so I just blanked.

"They are not getting divorced, because we are not married."

"What? Three years, and Sarah never signed the papers?!"

I just said yes.

Yup, she'd canceled on signing the papers like seventeen times.

Sarah finally came home around eleven, which was rare.

She took off her jacket and headed for the closet, and she froze when she saw the bare wall where our photo used to hang.

"Where'd the photo go?"

She didn't even hang up her jacket. She ran into the bedroom, looking frazzled.

"Fell off the wall and broke."

Hearing that, she glanced at the broken glass in the trash and seemed to calm down. She put her jacket down and pulled out a Gucci belt.

"I was going to get you a gift yesterday. But today happens to be our third anniversary, so here. Happy Anniversary."

She put the belt on the bed, and I thought I was hearing things.

Sarah remembered our anniversary?

But then I saw the receipt. She'd bought it half an hour ago. Jake's post must have reminded her.

She didn't know I already had two of these in my closet.

I just stared at her.

"Hey, there is a pilot of the year award at the end of the year. I was wondering if you were going to give it up this year. Jake wants to get one like yours."

She sounded nervous.

I laughed to myself. So the gift came with a price tag.

"Sure."

I nodded calmly.

Not just this year, but next year and the year after that.

"You… you mean it?"

Sarah seemed surprised that I agreed so easily. She kept glancing at me.

Then she said, "I take care of Jake. And you kind of taught him a little bit too."

"Oh, I almost forgot! Can you take me to the DMV tomorrow? We can finally get this marriage license signed and over with."

I didn't say anything.

She seemed to remember that I was packing this afternoon. "Oh, right! Tomorrow is your flight, what time?"

"Three pm."

I looked at her, ready to tell her I was leaving, but her phone rang.

It was Jake. He'd twisted his ankle and needed her help.

Sarah hung up and gave me a guilty look. "Jake is hurt. I need to go."

This time, she actually sounded like she was asking for my permission.

I swallowed the words I was about to say, forced a smile, and nodded. "It's fine. Go."

She looked relieved and stood up. "You'll make it for your flight tomorrow. We'll sign the license tomorrow, I promise."

I almost laughed. She was never going to let me break up with her face to face.

The next morning,

I packed my luggage. Then left for the airport.

It was noon, and I hadn't heard from Sarah.

By the time I was boarding my flight, Sarah texted me: "Sorry! Jake was sick today, and I had to take him to the hospital. We're going to have to reschedule. Next time, I will sign it."

I felt nothing.

Of course. She wasn't coming to get the license signed for the eighteenth time.

"Never mind, Sarah. I quit my job. I am on the way to Paris. We will never see each other again."

I sent her one last message and went to turn off my phone.

Then my screen started blowing up with notifications from Sarah.