#Chapter 30 What Does He Want

I met Arthur at a fancy Italian restaurant downtown at eight o’clock. He ordered clam linguine, and I had pasta Bolognese. We both opted for water since we had to drive home.

When we received our main courses, Arthur insisted on a toast.

“To you, Anna,” he began, “and to your budding career. May it know no limits. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

We clinked out glasses and sipped our water. Then we dug into our meal.

I found that I had to force myself to eat. The food had suddenly lost all its flavor. Arthur must have noticed, too, because he put down his utensils and looked straight at me.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just…the last time that I was included in a toast, it ended in my husband’s mistress announcing that she was pregnant.”

Arthur cringed.

“And everyone at the party congratulated them, as though they were the celebrating married couple.”

My stomach twisted in knots. It was as though I were living the event all over again.

“I’m sorry. That’s horrible. At least