9. Just Drive

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My mom drops by the next morning at my request. She stands outside my door with a smile on her face and a container in her hands. By the smell of it, I can only hope it's her special caramel popcorn. I just had breakfast, but already my tastebuds are bouncing in excitement.

She shuffles her way inside, and I close the door behind her. Seth has already left for the office, and due to two weeks of endless work, I've already convinced myself that I deserve a day off. Too bad Seth hadn't chosen today as his day away from work. We could have stared at the tv in silence together, or made agonizing attempts at conversation, or bought a few dozen cats... but at least we would have been together.

Instead, I had to go and kiss my husband. Shame on me. I haven't seen him since that scandalous display of affection. Next time I'll keep things rated G and try for a hug instead.

I sigh at the thought of Seth's ridiculously over-dramatic behavior. There's no way we're ever gonna have kids if a simple kiss drives him into fear-driven solitude. Good grief, Seth! Grow up already.

Horrified. That was the look on Seth's face when he pulled away from my eager grasp. I'd literally shocked the sense right out of him. And he has yet to return in fear of experiencing my overly delicious lips again. I mean, that's gotta be the reason he fled, right? My kisses are just too much of a good thing. He's gotta work himself up to withstanding the intense passion that I radiate.

Bleh. Who am I trying to convince? A kiss is a kiss. It's not like I have magic lipstick that entices men in a way that's too much to handle. No, the truth that I've been trying so hard to deny is this: my husband doesn't want me. He ran because he felt nothing. And maybe it was that 'nothing' that scared him.

Shaking Seth from my thoughts, I invite my mom to take a seat before grabbing two beers from the fridge. I pop the caps and then sink down on the other end of the couch from my mom. She looks at me over the edge of her bottle as she tips her head back for a sip.

"Something up?"

I copy her actions, taking a sip as I watch her face. She's scrutinizing my expression. I can see her mind working to figure me out, but she's not succeeding. I can tell by the confusion knitted between her brows that she has no idea what's going on.

"Kinda," I tell her honestly. "I'm not really in the mood to talk about it though."

She nods slowly in response, taking another sip of beer. The room quiets until the only thing making sound is the buzz of our own thoughts—and the occasional icky sound of one of us swallowing.

It's a comfortable feeling. Usually, the only thoughts that bounce around inside of this home are my own. It's nice to sit in thoughtful silence with another living person.

"Have you ever just wanted to take off?" I suddenly ask. "Just get in your car and drive until you run out of gas?"

"Well, no," my mom responds, tilting her head to the side as she ponders my words, "but now that you mention it, that sounds like a wonderful idea."

And before I can even down my fifth sip of beer, my mom is pulling me from the couch. She grabs the bottle from my hand and sets it on a coaster in the center of the coffee table. With her container of mysterious goodies in her arm, she pulls me towards the door.

"I didn't mean right now," I protest, even though I'm already slipping on my pair of fish flops. They're exactly what they sound like: flip-flops in the shape of fish.

They're actually really gross sandals because they look real, but they were unique enough that I had to buy them. Seth hates them and forbids me to wear them in his presence. Thankfully, my mom happens to be even weirder than I am, so I know she won't mind.

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