The history of Shelly and I is simple; we met at work. We talked, liked each other, started to date. We liked each other even more, moved in together and everything was fine.
We lived together for months, as easy and comfortable as any couple.
Then we had an argument.
I didn’t think it was important. For some reason I don’t know, Shelly did.
We said things and when I went to snuff out the words, slap them away, make it a so what, Shelly was not ready to back down.
She decided to sleep on the couch. I didn’t make a fuss of it. In the morning, I made breakfast she went in to shower.
When she came out, I asked if she was ready to go. She said something about having to run an errand and would see me at the office.
I knew she was still upset, but I figured she’d work it out in her head, and I went to work.
She arrived about three hours late.
When it was quiting time, I asked if she was ready to go she admitted; “I’ve moved out,” and walked away.