Anniversary 9 Month Novels & Stories

Without my permission, he can't do anything. I rule low-key while he rules publicly. I became his better half and I love him so much. I took the role of Anya and ruled the house. We became a United family. I couldn't ask for more from God. This is what I want. Mrs. Irina Atono Alexei. * Nine months later: It's our anniversary today and it is our second anniversary. We were not able to celebrate the first anniversary because of what happened in both families. But we are celebrating our second anniversary together, with our family and friends.

"She's been keeping me company for the past few months." I stayed in the kitchen, gazing at candles I had carefully trimmed, the silverware laid out on the table, and the roses, still so pungently fragrant in the vase. Tonight is our anniversary night. Three long years. I'd been counting down the minutes or at least pretending not to, I had praying under my breath that we'd finally make it together tonight. It hadn't been an easy year, but I had remained faithful. Even when he hadn't.

I had celebrated our one-month anniversary with a vintage bottle of wine. I had marked our second month with a first-edition book from his favorite author. For our third, I had a star named after him, a ridiculously grand gesture that he had received with a polite, bewildered smile. He never once acknowledged the date himself. He never once planned anything. It was a one-way street, and I was getting exhausted from driving alone.

Eighteen months. As a physician, my brain did the math instinctively, aligning dates, timelines, and behavioral patterns into a clinical chart. So, I started the internal audit: Eighteen months ago: Marcus and I had celebrated our nineteenth wedding anniversary with a quiet dinner downtown. Seventeen months ago: We had taken Liam on a weekend trip to tour East Coast colleges. Sixteen months ago: Marcus had staged a breakdown at the kitchen island, complaining about the crushing stress of his agency's overhead.

A few minutes later, he came back and said, "Something came up at the office. I need to go on a quick business trip." He didn't dare look me in the eye. I just said, "Oh," kept my eyes on my book, and asked, "Will you be back by the 18th?" "The day after tomorrow?" Jason froze for a second, then seemed to relax as he stepped closer to me. "Of course I'll be back by the 18th. I wouldn't forget." "Our nine-year anniversary," he added. "Good." The corners of my mouth turned up slightly. But I wasn't planning to celebrate our anniversary. I was planning to break up with him that day. To put a period at the end of this nine-year sentence.

He rushed toward the door, forgetting the promise he had made less than a minute earlier to stay with me all night. At the threshold, he seemed to remember something and looked back. "One month from today," he said. "We will hold the wedding. I promise." One month from today. What a shame, James. There would be no wedding. I was leaving you for good.

“We met three months ago when you cooked me dinner instead of my housekeeper and I fell in love with your food because it reminded me of my ma’s.” I nodded again. “Noted.” “I invited you to be my personal cook and you accepted because my offer was too good to pass up. Even at that, you never took my shit lying down and challenged me every step of the way. That fiery spark was what drew me in and before anyone knew it, I was completely smitten. So I made the first move and asked you out. You refused a few times but eventually gave in because I’m a persistent bastard. And so we’ve been dating since then. For about two months now, which would put our anniversary date on the 16th of September.”

“I don’t know if that’s a compliment.” “It’s a compliment.” That made her smile. “I’m twenty-nine.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Really?” “Yeah.” I leaned back slightly. “I’ll be thirty next month.” Her eyes widened. “Wow.” “I know.” “That’s a big one.” “Please don’t remind me.” She laughed. “When’s your birthday?” “July twentieth.” “That’s next month.” “Unfortunately.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “What about you?” I asked. “October fifth.”

"Yes, we have. The nursery is all set, and we've got all the baby clothes and gear we need. We're just waiting for the big day now." Nessa chatted on, asking me questions about the twins and our preparations. I answered happily, enjoying the conversation. After a while, Nessa mentioned, "Hey, guess what? Tomorrow's a special day for Nicolas and me." I smiled, intrigued. "What's happening tomorrow?" Nessa's voice was filled with excitement. "It's our six-month anniversary! I can't believe it's already been half a year since we started dating." I congratulated her, "Aww, happy early anniversary, Nessa! That's so exciting. Do you have any special plans to celebrate?"

"Nina wanted to eat garlic shrimp and asked me to make it for her. Mom and Dad forgot that I'm allergic to seafood. My hands are swollen. It hurts." "It's Nina's birthday today. Her cake was so pretty. I wish they would celebrate my birthday too. But Mom and Dad seemed to have forgotten my birthday is just two days before Nina's." I watched silently as she filled her diary page after page. Sometimes, they had decimal points. Sometimes, they didn't. She kept making excuses for her family, but her expression grew increasingly numb. In the end, her diary was nearly full, and the wedding she had longed for had also been ruined. She stopped numbering at 99.