Imperfect

T W E N T Y - F I V E - C L A R E N C E O T T O M

The house was sparkly clean—it also smelled good. I was so happy to see my wife again after this long week without her.

"Abigale," I called her name, until I saw her on the couch, writing in her journal, "how's your week been going?"

"It's been okay," she said smiling with joy as she saw my face, "I missed you."

"I missed you as well baby." I told her as I walked over to the couch with her.

She tried getting up from the couch, but I begged her not to move.

"What do you say," I rubbed her leg smoothly, "why don't we get out of Valdosta for a few days—just you and me, going on a mini vacation. No driving for you required."

"I like the sound of that," she smiled while agreeing to my proposal, "I love that idea—when can it happen? When can we go? Because I am fully stressed the hell out and I need to leave and go somewhere ASAP!"

She was ready, she wanted to leave as bad as I wanted to leave.

"We could leave right now if you want—do you want to leave now?" I asked her.

She smiled hugging me, not giving me an answer yet.

I looked at her, waiting for an answer patiently, "So..."

"Yes—duh—of course," she finally answered me, "where would we be going?"

"What about a beach?" I asked her.