Emily ran her hands down the black silky material of her dress, smoothing out the creases for what must have been the hundredth time that night. “You seem nervous,” Ben said. “You’ve barely touched your food.” Her eyes darted down to the half-eaten chicken on her plate, then back up at Ben, who sat across from her at the beautifully laden dinner table, his face lit by candlelight. For their seven-year anniversary, he’d taken her to the most romantic restaurant in New York