Bad Things Came In Threes

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They always said that bad things came in threes.

The first was Mark's fault. As you took a sip of the coffee he had given you that morning, you stared off into the distance with a smile on your face as you remembered his antics from the night before.

After watching far too many videos of dessert makers on YouTube over the weekend, Mark had the brilliant idea of staging a 'cake-off'. The notion was ridiculous to you but you weren't one to back down from a challenge, so you had accepted; the loser would be designated dishwasher for the rest of the week. The competition took off in no time and you both scrambled to grab your ingredients.

A mixture of sugar, flour and cream covered your kitchen benches, aprons and faces. Everything had been going well so far — even with the light banter thrown into the mix — but it all started to go downhill as you both reached for the last remaining egg in the carton. The two of you argued your cases for god knows how long before settling for a simple game of rock, paper, scissors in which you came out the winner.

Smiling victoriously, you threw a wink over in his direction as you cracked the egg into your mixture. Soon, you realised that Mark was having none of it, as something sticky hit you squarely on the cheek. As it turned out, Mark had grabbed a handful of his mixture and had thrown it at you, which he clearly enjoyed doing, if the smirk on his face was anything to go by.

The 'cake-off' was soon forgotten as a food fight ensued but it wasn't long until you were both tangled up in each other's arms, sharing kisses as Mark lifted you onto the counter—

"Hey, have you got the photos ready?" Hana asked, breaking through your daydream and startling you just enough to make you spill coffee all over your laptop.

"Shit," you cursed, realising that apart from your laptop short circuiting in your face, you also realised that you hadn't saved any of your work. Scrambling to your feet, you quickly unplugged the damaged device and ran as fast as you could to the IT department in the gallery.

Skidding to a halt by the office of their department, you quickly threw the door open and knelt once you had crossed the threshold to beg them for help. Luckily, they were able to issue you with a new laptop on the spot but had needed time to recover your untouched photos. However, it would seem that your luck had run out as they weren't able to recover your pictures, which meant that you would need to head out for the rest of the day to take some new ones.

The second thing to go wrong was your fault.

In your haste to capture as many photos as you could for the next project, you had left your phone behind on your desk — which meant that you had missed every call and every message from your boss to remind you of a scheduled meeting that you had with some investors from your exhibition. It all came back to you as you spotted your boss with her arms crossed as soon as you entered your building and your heart sank at the prospect of losing some great opportunities. As you apologised profusely, your boss had then informed you that she was able to reschedule the meeting after citing that you had fallen ill. Thanking her endlessly, you promised to work harder and do better.

Entering your office, you headed straight for the couch and laid there face down, feeling sorry for yourself. The day was quickly turning out to be one of the worst days you'd had in awhile and it wasn't even over yet; you still had to go home. Bad things came in threes and you were starting to worry that the third would come from Mark again, especially so close to the ending of the thirty day period.

With a sigh, you finally pushed yourself off the couch and headed off to grab your things, but not before shaking your head silly. The past few weeks had been a great time between you and Mark and you should not be thinking so negatively of him all the time. As you had said before, the impending divorce wasn't just his fault, so it wasn't fair to keep thinking that he would be the only one making mistakes.

Reaching your desk, you spotted your phone and went through all the messages and calls that you missed. Almost all of them were from your boss, a few from Hana and one missed call from Mark. Your heart couldn't help but flutter at the thought that he would ring but you tried not to get ahead of yourself. Pressing down on his contact name, you dialled his number.

"Sorry I missed your call," you said as soon as he answered. "I didn't have my phone with me."

"That's okay," you could hear the smile in Mark's voice. "I was just calling to check up. How was your day?"

"I don't really want to talk about it," you sighed as you sat on your desk chair.

"That bad, huh?" Mark chuckled and you couldn't help but smile at the sound. "We don't have to talk about it. I'll prepare a few things at home to help relax you. Would that help?"

"That sounds amazing."

"Alright, well I'm already on the way home," Mark informed you. "I'll see you soon?"

"I'll be on the way soon," you answered happily, already halfway out of your office.

As soon as you entered your home, you almost burst into tears. The pent up frustration you had within you dissipated in mere seconds as soon as the smell of your favourite pasta dish wafted through the air. God, you truly didn't deserve him.

"Baby, is that you?" Mark called out from the kitchen, where you soon headed after hanging up your coat.

"It's me," your voice was small as you replied and it dawned on your husband just how bad the day had gone for you.

"Yikes," he commented, before walking over and cupping your face. "I mean, it sure looks like you but something is different. You're missing this bright smile you always have on that brings out the dimples you have here—"

"Stop it," you laughed a little, as you moved his poking finger away from your face.

"Well, would you look at that? There she is. I knew you were hiding in there somewhere."

"I want a hug," you pouted, and Mark raised an eyebrow. "Please."

"Come here," he obliged you, hugging tightly. "Let's go, I have a surprise for you."

"More than what you're making?"

With a slight nod, Mark intertwined your hands as he led you up the stairs and into the main bathroom. In there waiting for you was your favourite shirt of his to wear along with your favourite bath essentials. After sitting you on the covered toilet seat, Mark made his way over to the bath and started to fill it.

As you sat, you watched him get everything that you needed ready for you. Mark did always know how to make you feel better when you were feeling the worst about yourself. Would you be able to live without all of this? Would you be able to live without him?

"Mark, you don't have to do this," you sighed. "Not anymore."

To his credit, Mark didn't flinch at your words though you were sure that they affected him. But just like he always did, he put your needs first. "I know we barely have a week left," he turned to you with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But, you're still my wife until then. So please, let me do this while I still can."

Standing up, you walked over to him and engulfed him in your arms. "I'm so sorry," you whispered into his neck.

"Don't be," Mark embraced you, rubbing your back soothingly. Pulling back, he planted a chaste kiss on your forehead before instructing you to get in the tub. "You don't want it to get cold. I'll be waiting downstairs with dinner, okay?"

The bath was not as relaxing as you thought it would be, as your negative thoughts continued to swirl in your mind. The night was going to end without a hitch, you could feel it; Mark was going to save the day and make it all better like he always did, which made you afraid of what the rest of the week had in store for you.

Only two bad things occurred that day and bad things came in threes.

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