“Why are we even married?” The statement of concern came out much louder than I expected. If looks could kill. My wife swiveled 180 degrees and robotically walked out of the bedroom door into the living room.
I said to myself, “I am never going out there to apologize.” But the crying got to me. A nearly inaudible whimper turned into a loud wail, melting my defenses. As I walked out, I saw my wife sitting on the couch, arms crossed, with the same indignant frown, watching a girl cry on her favorite soap opera. Should’ve gone with Plan A.
I said to myself, “I am never going out there to apologize.” But the crying got to me. A nearly inaudible whimper turned into a loud wail, melting my defenses. As I walked out, I saw my wife sitting on the couch, arms crossed, with the same indignant frown, watching a girl cry on her favorite soap opera. Should’ve gone with Plan A.
