Washing Myself Clean
Her blue eyes twinkled, maybe for the first time in ages, baby blue, mesmerizing. She pushed back her blonde wispy locks, short, but long enough to annoy her.
“I’m leaving,” her voice shook with uncertainty. Her resolve was strong, as strong as the last name he gave her, Irons. “I bought a property, and I’m leaving.”
Gerry shook his head, dumbfounded. The woman in front of him couldn't be his wife of 31 years, the mother of their only son, Chad. He snorted dismissively.
“Uh-hum,” he smirked, “like the other 400 times you left?”
“I mean it this time, Gerry,” Debbie braced her body, thick, sturdy, but not to her liking even after losing 40 pounds. “It’s a done deal. I signed the papers today.”
Gerry started to spin. His mind raced. He was about to lose her, the woman he loved. Well, the woman he loved to have around anyway.
Who could tell anymore? Marriage, it’s hard work and neither of them had put in any for at least 2 decades. But still, to just leave? Without warning? Sure, she bitched and moaned, but doesn’t every woman?
“Who’s gonna drive me around?” he challenged. “You know, to run errands and get food and stuff.”
