He didn’t mean to forget.

He had put the date in his calendar for fucks sake, he had told his secretary to remind him that morning, he had put a notification in his phone so he wouldn’t forget.

How the fuck did all of those things manage to fail?

And now that he did manage to remember, which he felt horrible for remembering three days later, he understood why you’d been acting different since then.

He cared about your… arrangement? Relationship? He wasn’t sure which it was, but he cared about it, and you, so much. His sugar baby.

And he felt like shit for forgetting about the one year mark.

Which how he ended up in your living room, designer boxes and bags littering the floor, coffee table, and side tables.

He smiled as he saw the confused look on your face as you entered the house.

“Hey sweetheart…”