old war, a silent, suffocating battle waged a

ttering stream of their affair. Every day was a ne

t a fancy restaurant, their faces close, his arm possessively around her wais

ark. Vacations, holidays, candid moments. Nine hundred and ninety-nine photos. She took them out to the backy

cate, handmade ceramic dolls. He knows how much

ted her. Vases from the Ming dynasty, delicate teacups, ornate plates. She laid a tarp on the

He was looking at the camera, a soft, loving expression on his face. "Lily,"

joy. She admired its sparkle one last time, remembering the day he put it on her finger. Then, she twisted it off, walked ov

und midnight, looking tired. He tried to put

iversary gala is next week. It's our tenth anniversary as a company, and our

, her body rigid. The thought of h

she said, her voi

outing, that his "big gift" would smooth everything over, just like