The second anniversary 

My husband and I just celebrated our second anniversary. To be fair to myself, I didn't actually lie on the floor and kick and scream until my face turned blue.

I did, however, break a promise to him.

"We're going over to the East Side to watch the fireworks," he had said. "This is a friend borrowing a banker's pied-à-terre, so you have to promise me that you won't throw a fit out of real estate envy."

"I promise," I had said.

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