"Pick your poison." she said.
Well then I'll take the draught of living death over there on the side. I didn't hear myself say it but the grimace on her face told me I had.
She stood up gracefully, gave me a stony stare, and stalked out of the room.
My wine glass was empty. With a great heaving sigh I rose and moved my unwilling legs to the kitchen.
"I'm sorry," I said gazing at the floor and to no one imparticular.
"I'd love to accept, but you don't mean it." She scathed, breathing fire in my direction.
I looked at the wine glass in my hand. Still empty.
"You're not paying attention," she said. I think she said it twice. I'm not sure. I looked up.
"I love you." I said, putting feeling in it.
She looked down for a long time and we stood in silence; me against the door frame, her by the sink. Finally she looked up. Looked me straight in the eye. I looked back into her nicely made up eyes, her carelessly messy hair, and nice clothes. All for me. And I looked away.
"You don't love me." She said very matter-of-factly.
"I do." I whispered.
Simultaneously I put my empty wine glass down on the counter and stepped forward. I wrapped my arms around her stiff body and put my head on her shoulder. Something gave way in her and she warmed her body up to mine and we kissed deeply. We found our way to the bed and I felt relieved in that moment that everything would be okay. I fell deep asleep, content and holding her in my arms.
In the morning she was gone.
Where's the asprin? I wondered aloud.
After a normal routine I walked to the kitchen. And the living room. And the study. Where was she? There was a hand written note on my phone..."I loved you too much. Don't forget me."
I picked up her coat that was still on the hook, put it on, put the note in my pocket and walked out the door.