The Anniversary Dinner That's Not for Me

I stared at my phone after the call disconnected, my head spinning with the words my wife, Yvonne Ashby, had just said. "Are you dying? Call me when you're dead!"

Suppressing the tumultuous emotions within me, I forced myself up and used the last of my strength to call 911. As it turned out, emergency services were far more reliable than Yvonne sometimes.

The doctor told me I had suffered food poisoning from consuming undercooked green beans and mushrooms. Fortunately, I had been brought to the hospital in time. If I had arrived even a few minutes later, I wouldn't have been lying safely in a hospital bed right then.

While I was in bed with an IV drip, my phone suddenly rang beside me. Once I snapped back to reality, I picked up my phone and saw Yvonne's name on the screen.

"Samson, do you think stir-fried beef tastes better with or without scallions?"

Her question caught me off guard. When it finally registered, a bitter smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "I'm in the hospital, Yvonne," I said softly.

Yvonne sounded annoyed on the other end of the line. "Right, go get checked out and make sure they give you plenty of medicine."

Without missing a beat, she steered the conversation right back to her question. "Hurry up and tell me—does it taste better with or without scallions?"

I was just about to answer when a man's voice suddenly came through the phone. "Vonne, as long as you're the one cooking, I'll love it with or without scallions."

The very next second, the call was abruptly disconnected.

I stared blankly at the phone in my hand. All of a sudden, two notifications popped up.

"Something urgent came up at work. I'll come home tomorrow."

"Since you're at the hospital, get some extra medication. If you don't have enough money, I'll Venmo you some."

Staring at Yvonne's messages on the screen, I felt a sharp pang in my heart.

Something urgent came up at work? Go to the hospital and get plenty of medicine? How could someone be so dismissive?

This time, I simply set my phone down, leaving Yvonne on read.

Lying on the hospital bed, I stared blankly at the ceiling.

Next to me was a little girl. Noticing how quiet I was, she ambled over with a grin, rested her chin on her hands, and looked up at me. "Mister, why are you all alone? When my daddy was in the hospital, my mommy was always right beside him. Where's your wife, mister?"

Looking at the pure, innocent face in front of me, I responded softly, "My wife? I don't have one."

After hearing that, she sprang to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. Her little face was beet red as she argued, "Mister, you're lying! I saw it with my own eyes. There's a photo of you and a pretty lady inside your phone case.

"Grown-ups aren't allowed to lie! If you lie, your nose will grow really big! Mister, your wife is so pretty! Can I see a picture of the two of you together?"