For ten years I was his wife in every way, platos except for one thing – our official marriage. When I asked him for a signature, he just laughed, “It’s just a piece of paper.” The next morning, his smile disappeared.

I didn’t want an expensive ring.

I just needed one thing – to hear that after ten years he really chose me.

I booked a table in a good restaurant.

At dinner, gathering courage, I said calmly:

“Michael, maybe we should finally get married? Even if it’s just a little ceremony for our loved ones.’

He’s gone.

He put down the fork.

And then he laughed.

I’ll never forget that laugh.

“Laura, are you serious?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head.

“I’ll never marry you.”

I felt like I had gotten in the face.