Mark gave him one last look before letting me pull him along. When we got into the car, I noticed he was gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white.
“Baby, I’m so sorry. He was a jerk, and you know I never felt the same way for him as he did for me during the show-” I rushed, trying to calm him but he shook his head.
“No, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to hear those things. You’re not any of those things he called you.”
A tear slid down my cheek. I hadn’t realized I was crying. Halfway home he reached for my hand and when we climbed into bed that night, we talked about everything.
He had calmed down enough to where we could begin to laugh about it.
“I wish I had punched him,” I told him.
“That look when I came up behind you was priceless. Like what did he expect would happen? He’d whisk you away and you’d get married and live happily ever?” I laid down on his bare chest. I kissed him quickly and looked up at him.
“Is that such a crazy fantasy? After all, that’s what you did when we met.”
