The Wrong Message on My Birthday

Synopsis

On my 56th birthday, I woke up at six in the morning. It wasn't excitement; it was just my body clock. For thirty years, I'd been waking up at this time, making oatmeal for my husband, Robert Carter. Then I'd brew myself a cup of coffee, wash the dishes from the night before, and bring in the clothes from the balcony. Every day was the same. When Robert got up, I was setting the oatmeal on the table. "Don't cook today. We'll eat out tonight," he said, sitting down, picking up his spoon, and taking a mouthful of oatmeal without looking at me. My heart thumped. He actually remembered my birthday? "Where are we going?" I asked. "Layla said there's a new buffet restaurant. She and Michael went once and said it was pretty good," he replied. Layla was my daughter, and Michael was Layla's husband. "Okay," I said. I didn't thank him, but I made a mental note that he might really remember it was my birthday today. Robert's memory wasn't great. He never remembered our anniversary, but sometimes, he remembered my birthday. Since we shared the same birthday, I never knew if he remembered his or mine. In the morning, I went to the supermarket to get groceries. We planned to eat out tonight, but we'd still have lunch at home. Robert couldn't stand missing a home-cooked meal. I bought a sea bass and some greens. On my way back, my phone buzzed. I fished it out with one hand and saw it was a message from the family group chat. There were only five of us in the family group: me, Robert, Layla, Michael, and Robert's sister, Lisa. It hardly ever lit up, and when it did, it was usually messages like "Come home for dinner tonight" or "Help me get a discount." But today, there were a lot of messages. I tapped it open and saw it was from Michael. Michael: [Robert, Layla and I booked a table at Sunset Buffet for seven. Don't let it slip, okay? I really don't want to eat with Linda. She'll complain about how expensive it is, and it's so annoying.] He followed it with a sneaky grin emoji. Right after, Layla replied: [You sent that to the wrong group!! Delete it now!] The message was deleted. But I saw every single word. I stood outside the supermarket, fish and greens in my left hand, phone in my right. Nearby, someone was selling chestnuts, and the smell kept wafting over. An elderly lady walked by, holding her grandson's hand. The boy was crying, and she was gently trying to calm him. I stayed there for about a minute. Then I put my phone away and carried my groceries home. When I got home, I cleaned the fish, washed the greens, and placed them onto a plate. At noon, Robert came home for lunch, and I served the food as usual. He ate with his head down, like always, and he didn't notice a thing. I acted like nothing had happened. But in my heart, I knew things had changed.