I was all prepared for the two of us to have a bitch fest about the incompetence of the airlines and how weird it was that all my texts somehow hadn’t gotten through. But she didn’t give me any excuses at all. She looked tired. Sad. Rumpled in ways that shouldn’t happen on an un-crashed airplane. ‘Mark,’ she said as her eyes scanned the room. The candles were burned down. The food was cold. ‘Let me get your coat for you,’ I said and tried to force a smile onto my face. My voice shook just a little. ‘Mark, I don’t want to do this anymore,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to pretend everything is great with us. I don’t want to be married to you or to anyone else. I want out, Mark. And I’m not going to change my mind.’ And then my world fell apart. I mean, there were more words. I begged. I cried. I asked ‘Why???’ in a thousand different ways. It didn’t matter. Her mind was made up. ‘We’ll figure out what we’re going to do about the house,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, Mark. I’m really sorry.’ I. He nibbled her bottom lip before pulling away and raising to his knees on the bed. He looked into her eyes playfully and pushed his index finger against her lips, signaling that her time to talk was over. ‘You’re going to have to be quiet for a while, little missy.’ Still on his knees, he removed his shirt and threw it on the floor, revealing a toned chest and hints of a 6-pack under a trace of soft hairs. She loved the way he took charge when she had finally driven him over the edge. ‘You had your fun this evening, and now I’m going to return the favor.’ Kyle reached into his back pocket and produced their digital kitchen timer with a proud grin. ‘What the hell are you going to do with that?!’ Kyle answered by placing his finger on her lips a second time, and she complied with her silence. He then pushed her shoulders back until she lay supine on the mattress. Kyle was permitted to part her legs, confirming his theory that she had declined to wear panties to dinner. She was.
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