The Anniversary (A short, very short story of fiction)

She sat on my bed expecting a ring, fancy necklace, flowers, or some nice gift. The truth was, since my car was totaled right after I pulled out of the car shop, there was no way I could afford a present for our anniversary.

She asked me where it was, and I didn’t have an answer. I still hadn’t told her about the accident and how unbelievably broke I’ve become because my crappy ’98 neon. I tried to play it off asking her “Where is what sweetie?” But her response of nothing but snorting out clouds of smoke had her thinking that I knew what she was talking about.

I told her that I didn’t get her anything, but she gave me something: a bloody nose. After I told her that I had been in a car accident the day before she understood a little but then realized I had waited to tell her so she was still pissed.

“I understand honey”, lying through her teeth.
“I just didn’t want you worrying, I’m so sorry I couldn’t give you anything” I managed to pull out.

My girlfriend reiterated over and over again that it was okay, but I would have to make it up to her. Her snobbish tone just reached into my heart and stomped down a few times.

Today just wasn’t good. Between not having a car, letting my girlfriend down, and definitely not getting laid, I wondered how to tell her that I just wanted to be alone. I was afraid to but still asked her if she would get off of my bed, since I had a long day and just wanted to sprawl out. She gave me a look as if I told her I had genital warts, hawked up some spit and loogied right onto my favorite sweater. That was right before she got up and left—for good.

Some anniversary.