Luc lifts his glass. “Happy anniversary, my Adeline.” She looks at him, lips parting with their usual retort, but then stops short. If she is his—then by now he must be hers as well. “Happy anniversary, my Luc,” she answers, just to see the face he’ll make. She is rewarded with a raised brow, the crooked upturn of his mouth, the green of his eyes shifting in surprise.
What a dumb bitch.
