Milly
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We spent our first anniversary in the living room, Milly and I. Wanting her to get the restaurant treatment, I made a little "A La Carte" menu, listing all the dishes I can passably cook, and gingerly placed it in her hands.
By VanTriago https://www.reddit.com/r/...

Milly

by VanTriago

We spent our first anniversary in the living room, Milly and I.

Wanting her to get the restaurant treatment, I made a little "A La Carte" menu, listing all the dishes I can passably cook, and gingerly placed it in her hands.

I so wanted the night to go well I almost spilt the pasta sauce, my professionally steady hands shaking from nerves.

I was so sure I'd ruined it and told her so, a dull stone resting in the pit of my stomach.

But as we ate under the lamplight, she told me "It was lovely", as if I could never disappoint her, and I felt like the luckiest man in the world.

I got up from my chair and walked to the windowsill. With our heavy green curtain always drawn, it becomes the perfect hiding place.

I reach into the fabric and pull out a parcel, wrapped in yellow paper. I cross the room and sit on the arm of her chair.

As I hand Milly her anniversary gift, I realise my hands are shaking again.

She delicately unfolds the tissue, to reveal the brown leather photo album. I'd searched online for weeks to find the perfect one. As her delicate hand raises the cover, I watch her face intently.

She gives nothing away as she slowly leafs through my gift, a comprehensive document of our first year together.

She sees the first messages, screengrabs of our online dating profiles and the words we exchanged. Where I first fell in love with Milly, the aspiring pastry chef from London.

Then the texts where I learned about her life and her incredible kindness, the pictures that showed her pure, naked beauty.

She turns the page.

She sees the reveal. The moment Milly told me she was actually John. The harsh mocking words that he typed, little boxes once full of sweetness now filled with sarcastic ire. She see's my response.

Stating how he was wrong, that the fact he was capable of such beauty showed that Milly was within him. That he was still the woman I loved.

She turns the page.

She sees the process. How I found John, how I laid him down and slowly, over many months, pulled Milly from within him.

She sees the diagrams, the calculated lines and their perfect transposition onto John's skin. She sees the hours of meticulous restructuring, Milly's photo always at my side.

She sees the moment I placed Milly in front of a mirror and showed her to herself.

She turns the page.

She sees the hundreds empty sleeves. As I tell her of all the memories we have yet to make, I see her finally stir. Though she's smiling of course, tears fall from her eyes.

I even see her hands start to shake

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