We quarreled this morning. I threw his favorite blue cup across the room and it shattered on the hearth. I screamed “I hate you!,” and ran out the door. I kicked the tires on my car.
I was angry all morning. Every time the phone rang, I was sure he was calling to apologize. Why didn’t he call? I wasn’t about to call him. He was wrong, right?
The afternoon dragged by. Now it’s 5:00 P.M., and I left the office. … The traffic was terrible and I was anxious to get home. It’s not that I was sorry. It’s his fault we quarreled, but it’s too tiring to stay mad. I want things to be the same between us.
The cars crept along the freeway and I checked my watch.
He should be home by now, waiting for me, listening to music, drinking a glass of red wine. I’m sure he bought me flowers. I can’t wait to see what color he chose. If they’re red, I know he still loves me.
Rain and leaves swirled across the highway and gathered on the edge of my windshield. My eyes stung with tears as I remember saying, “I hate you.” The wind shield wipers swished, and seemed to repeat, “hate-shoo, hate-shoo, hate-shoo.” I didn’t mean it. I reached in my purse for my cell phone and touched a melted chocolate candy kiss, his gift to me. I licked the chocolate off my fingers and smiled, remembering the night not so long ago and his words, “This kiss signifies my love.”
How I yearn to tell him I’m sorry, even if he was wrong. I want his arms around me. I want his lips to caress my throat. I want everything to be as it was before we quarreled.
I pull into the driveway, but I don’t see his car. It must be parked in the garage. I know he heard me pull in, and even now, I imagine him rushing to the door with a glass of wine and the flowers. In a minute, I’ll be in his arms. He’ll kiss me and whisper, “I’m sorry…”
I turn the handle on the front door. Why is it locked? I pull my key from my purse and unlock the door. The room is empty. I call his name. Where can he be?
A gust of wind rushes in, slamming the door behind me. My heart pounds as my gaze is drawn to another chocolate candy kiss as it rolls off the table. A single sheet of paper flutters in the air and settles to the floor...