The waiter brought two spoons because I forgot to say I was alone

Dear Delyara, Today would have been our twenty-ninth wedding anniversary. I went to the restaurant where my wife and I ate every year. I almost cancelled the booking after she died, but then the day arrived and staying home felt worse. I ordered the tiramisu we always shared. The waiter brought two spoons. I stared at them. He looked at the empty chair, understood, and reached to take one away. I stopped him. I said leave it. He did. So I ate dessert with two spoons on the plate, using only mine. This sounds pathetic when I write it. My wife would probably call it theatrical. She hated public displays of sadness. She also always stole the first bite of dessert and then claimed she had only wanted a taste. Tonight, I took the first bite myself and felt as though I had broken a rule of the marriage. The waiter did not rush me. When I asked for the bill, he had removed the dessert from it. I wanted to object because grief should not receive discounts. I did not. I walked home carrying the receipt. One tiramisu, zero charge, one unused spoon. Anniversaries used to measure how long we had been together. Now they measure how long I have been forced to continue counting alone.