Excerpt: Wedlock

He always hated her ‘doing your best’ talk – even more than the ‘useless and forgetful’ talk – and he had considered pulling away, but he had been the one who had made the mistakes and so he endured her touch. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t go on forever,’ was all he had been able to muster in response and he had waited as she rubbed her thumb back and forth under his eye as if she were wiping away a tear.
Then suddenly she had flung her arms around his neck. ‘Oh baby,’ she’d said, ‘you know I think I love you because of your forgetfulness, I wouldn’t want you any other way!’
She had tried to make it sound warm and loving, forgiving, but her words had made him feel like a donkey. He had held her mechanically while the tips of a few short strands of her hair, those which had somehow managed to escape the sticky snowstorm of her hairspray, seemed to drift spitefully past the tip of his nose, making it itch. During the embrace he had stared blankly at his leather jacket, which was draped over a dining chair, and it had struck him that a sleeve was wearing thin – he had made a mental note to get it replaced.