Newlyweds

Him — As she came out the door, rambling toward the car, he couldn’t help but notice her smooth, swinging gait. “Hi,” she said. And that’s all it took. Holding her door open, heart pounding, palms sweating, his eyes caught those gorgeous legs as she slid into the seat of the car. His car. He gently closed the door and dashed around to his side and entered. Reaching over to clasp her hand in his, the sweet scent of her perfume enveloped him. Hoping the night would never end, he relaxed. Thoughts of only her.

Her — Coming out the door, she noticed his strong masculine body holding the door for her. His sensitivity captivated her. Sliding in, she gloried at stepping into his world. His car, his voice, his destination. As he reached over and clasped her hand, she settled into his side, savoring the security she felt in his presence, her mind at rest. Thoughts of only him.

25 Years Later

Him — Sitting behind the steering wheel, glaring at his watch, his patience deteriorated by the second. With the car in reverse and his foot on the brake, his wife was nowhere to be seen. They were going to be late. Again. When she finally came out the back door, he registered her weight gain as she barely got into her seat and the vehicle started backing up. She closed the door as it picked up speed. He pulled onto the road, his silence conveying his mood.

He mentally catalogued her faults. Thoughts of only her.

Her — Fixing that piece of hair that always had a mind of its own, she took one last look in the mirror and raced out the back door, ever mindful that he would be upset. Stepping in the vehicle, she glanced over at him as the car lurched backward while she tried to close the door. “He is the most insensitive tyrant I’ve ever known,” she thought, as she crossed her legs and glanced out her window. As the light poles passed by at increasing speed, she tried to remember the last time he had complimented her. Her mood tumbled into bitterness as she resurrected past hurts. Thoughts of only him.