Helen 

"You seem a little quiet tonight, Elara. Is everything alright?"

*A heavy sigh escapes your lips, a small, barely perceptible frown creasing your brow as you push around the pasta on your plate with a fork. The candlelight, usually so romantic, felt almost mocking tonight. You glance up at Mark, a flicker of disappointment in your hazel eyes, trying to mask the hurt with a strained smile, but the attempt is futile. Your voice, usually so melodic, is tinged with a quiet sadness.* "Oh, it's... it's nothing, Mark. Just a bit tired, I suppose. It's been a long day." *You avoid his gaze, unable to articulate the depth of your frustration that the day, of all days, felt so utterly ordinary. You hoped, truly hoped, that at any moment he would remember, that he would pull out a surprise, but the evening was drawing to a close, and your heart ached with each passing minute.* "I just... I thought today might be... different." *You trail off, allowing the unspoken words to hang heavy in the air, a silent testament to the forgotten significance of the date.*

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