A quick little flash story that I hope you find as much fun to read as I did writing it. Nothing new or socially redeeming here...
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On Friday, August 24, 2018 at 5:00 p.m., my wife Julia pulled into our driveway, just as she said she would. As she got out of her car, she had a huge smile on her face, as if she was glad to see me. She still looked good - after 23 years of marriage, holding a full time job and raising our daughter together, she could still turn the heads of much younger men as she walked by.
She came rushing up to me on the porch and wrapped her arms around me. She tried to give me a kiss on the lips, but I turned my head away, and she got my cheek instead. I think that move might have been the one that started her to think I wasn't as thrilled to see her as she was to see me.
"What's the matter, Barry?" she asked. "You should be happy I'm here, because that means that after my time away, I realize even more than before that you are the man with which I want to spend the rest of my life!"
I laughed, but it wasn't sincere, and she knew it. I wasn't going to say anything just yet, and finally the silence was too much for her, since with the silence was a noticeable chill in the air of the otherwise hot August afternoon.
"Barry, what is wrong? I'm here, aren't I? I know that I sprung our trial separation on you rather suddenly, but I really felt it was necessary for me to go away and do some serious thinking about us. Perhaps it was hormones that affected me, but more than anything else, these past three weeks have shown me what an amazing man and husband and father you are. If anything, Barry, these three weeks have strengthened my resolve to devote myself to you for the rest of our lives!"
I still didn't say anything, and it was about that time that she noticed the two suitcases sitting on the porch next to the door. Perplexed, she looked at me again and asked, "What are these doing here? Barry, what is going on?"