We weren’t the kind of couple who needed expensive dinners or weekend trips. We had always been happiest sharing ordinary moments.So why wait until Saturday?
The station was only 20 minutes away.
I could surprise him during dinner.
I slid the lasagna into the oven, finished baking it, and found the anniversary card I’d bought the week before.
Inside, I wrote, « Five years down. A 100 to go.
Love,
Your favorite girl. »The nickname had become our private joke after I’d finally opened the envelope my adoptive parents gave me on my 18th birthday.
Inside had been only a few pieces of information about my life before the adoption: my birth date, the town where I’d been born, and my birth surname.
« I guess I finally know a little more about where you came from, » Ben had said as he handed the papers back to me.
« It isn’t much. »
