Why was he so nervous? It wasn’t like he hadn’t been rejected before. Even by Trisha. What’s another rejection, right? What could it do – kill him?
He had tried to quell his nervousness, put a damp blanket of assurance over his heart, calm its pounding. What was the worst that could happen? He cringed at the thought and willed himself to stop asking silent stupid rhetorical questions.
His Trisha. She was so beautiful. Her jet black hair framed her porcelain pure skin in a bob, bangs cut just above equally black perfectly shaped eyebrows, hair curling up under her jaw as if trying to tickle her chin. Her bright green eyes perfected the look. Too often, though, he had seen emotions he didn’t want to see in those eyes. Disapproval, disappointment. Disgust.
He had come to believe that those emotions were reactions to her own churning feelings and wrapped up in her own self opinion. It was safer that way, really. It wasn’t him, it was her.
He turned the car, barely registering the stop sign with his brain or his braking foot. Nearly there.
He had neglected her, it was true. Most of what she saw as his faults were true. But the part about not loving her? Not true. Not true at all. The day she came into his life would always be the pinnacle day for him. Nothing in his entire life would ever compare to that day. From that point on, it would be the experience by which all others were judged and came up short.
In a word, it was epic.
He smiled at the thought. Epic. She’d probably hate the use of that word. She didn’t exactly remember that day like he did, but he didn’t care. It didn’t change anything for him.
He sighed as he turned onto the street. Their street. There was a time she waited for him at the front window, anxious to see his car. Now he’d be lucky if he could even find her in the house when he got there. He had taken a risk today. Texted her earlier (she so preferred that to a call, and he hated leaving voice mail on her phone) and invited her to a movie. Just the two of them. He’d gotten back his oh-so-favorite one-letter response: “K.” But he knew she could, perhaps would, change her mind. He wouldn’t know for certain until he walked in the door.
Sitting up straighter in the seat as he pulled into the driveway, he planned in his mind what the evening would be like. Or rather, his part of the evening. Dress: comfy casual. Conversation: light, humorous, her lead. Movie: action, brainless. After: offer ice cream, but don’t plan on it. Check. Check. Check. Check.
He tried to wipe the frown off his face as he walked to the front door, not surprised when it opened before he reached it.
He smiled, kissed his wife, hugged her tightly, then looked around her.
Trisha stood there, waiting for him. And she was smiling.