Beside him, his mother Evelyn smiled warmly, and across from him, my own parents leaned forward, all of them expecting, I knew, a sweet and sentimental declaration of love for our second anniversary.

That is not what they got.

“Julian,” I said, and my voice came out clear and steady as a bell, surprising even me.

“You have spent the last six months telling everyone how hard you’re working for this family.

You tell your mother how exhausted you are.

You tell my parents how devoted you are to being a provider.

You’ve built quite a reputation, these past months, as a hardworking, dedicated family man.” Julian forced a tight, awkward laugh, and shuffled in his seat.

“Honey,” he said, a note of warning under the false lightness, “you don’t need to do this in front of everyone—” “Oh, but I insist,” I interrupted, softly, and I reached down and held up a small, sleek Bluetooth speaker that I had set on the table beside my water glass.