Julion was not sure where the compulsion came from, but the stack of junk mail sitting on the dining room table just had to be opened right then.
“Oh, sweetie, check it out,” he said, holding a tri-folded piece of marketing jargon laced mail up to his wife, “the APR on this card offer is crazy low. Go us!”
Rebecca stopped in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room, and stared out the screen door leading to the back door. “Nothing has been the same since the incident has it?” She said. Her tone was somber and the lack of emotion on her face would have sent concern through anyone other than her husband.
“Right,” Julion said, sighing. “You want to try this place for dinner?” He asked. Apparently a new Chinese food place had opened across town. He was quite excited to be going through the junk mail.
Rebecca once again sent her gaze outside, unblinking, keeping focus on a distant point only she could see, “yes. Our evenings together have grown in importance since the incident.”
“Becs, you have to stop referring to our wedding day as ‘the incident’. For the reals. You’re going to call it that in front of my parents one day and I don’t have the energy to explain to them.” Julion had had enough.
“Your parents,” Rebecca said, she returned to the distant spot, “they were present for the incident.”
“Oh my goodness,” Julion pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.