For three years in a row, my birthdays had all unfolded the same way—alone at a table for two, a candle burning low, and my husband missing yet again
Each year he had some excuse, always late, always “busy.” But this year, I’d had enough. I told him it was over. I thought I meant it—until I learned the truth he’d been carrying all along. The little corner booth where I sat was just the way I liked it—tucked away from the noise, close…