Forgotten Anniversary

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Time is a thief, and the clock doesn't stop...

It was one of the most ridiculous fights that Taylor could ever remember them having.

She had left work early and gone home to plan an anniversary surprise for Joe. They had been dating for five years, and he was always the one planning things for them, so this year she had decided to give him a year off.

By seven, the table was set, the food was ready, the wine had been poured and Taylor was wearing a low-cut red dress, that she had purchased especially for that evening.

When he walked through the door just before nine, Taylor was mad, and her mood only got worse when she could see that he had been drinking.

"Did I miss something?" he half asked, half-slurred out, when he saw her and the room.

"You went to the bar?" she questioned annoyed, ignoring his question.

"Ryan (Reynolds) had a crap day, so I met him there, you usually don't mind," Joe said, confused.

"Yeah, well normally it's not our anniversary," she threw back at him.

Joe's face dropped, and he suddenly looked to be soberer than he had when he walked into the room.

"Taylor, I-"

"Save it, Joe," she said, cutting him off, and backing away from him.

Taylor bumped into the table and knocked over a wine glass. The red liquid spilled across the white table cloth and then ran off the side, dripping into the floor, The sadness drained through her rather than skating over her skin. It traveled through every cell to reach the ground, but Taylor couldn't find the strength to clean either up.

"You should have told me," Joe said.

"Told you what?!" Taylor yelled, "That it was our anniversary? No, Joe, that's one you're meant to remember all on your own, or I don't know, look at a calendar!"

There was something in that shout, a pain behind it. Joe watched. He watched Taylor's eyes. Then he knew. The anger was nothing but a shield for pain, like a cornered soldier randomly throwing out grenades, scared for her life, lonely, desperate. He breathed in real slow. What if nothing blew up? What if there were no consequences? Wouldn't Taylor have to calm down? Wouldn't the shield clatter to the ground and let the pain tumble out? But indeed that was not what happened that regretful evening.

Instead, Taylor grabbed her purse, stuffed her phone inside, and pulled out her keys. Taylor threw on a jacket before heading to the door.

"Where are you going?" Joe asked.

"Not that it seems to matter to you, but I'm going to Selena's place," she told him, knowing Ed and Jack were out of town.

He grabbed her wrist as she passed and Taylor turned to give him, what could only be described as the 'if looks could kill' stare. Joe let go of her wrist, and she headed out into the night.

An early summer storm had rolled in and as she drove the back streets to her friend's Taylor was worried that she might have to pull over and wait it out. Her wipers seemed to be going as fast as possible and Taylor could still barely see the road.

Joe must have called Selena because by the time Taylor arrived at their house, she was ushered inside by Gigi, who had out wine, ice cream, chocolate, and Kleenex.

"It's just not like him," Taylor said, sipping the wine "He never forgets, but lately he's just been so different, and I have no idea what's going on?"

"Have you spoken to him about it?" Selena asked.

"I tried, not recently but a couple of weeks ago and he just said, that work was rough, that's all."

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