One Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine’s Day, said the voice on the radio.

Ruby descended the stairs toward the scene she knew was being staged in the living room. He was anticipating her coming on set, and she was ready. She hadn’t rehearsed, hadn’t known exactly what was coming, but was confident she could extemporize. Iterations of various scripts had played out in her mind. She knew she would rise to the occasion.

She entered the living room and noticed him sitting wearily on the sofa, frowning woefully, the deep grooves of his furrowed brow intentionally exaggerated. A studied portrayal of Woe Is Me.

“Just look at us,” she said. “Neither one of us is happy. We really must face the fact that we can’t go on like this any longer. Our marriage has been dysfunctional for decades, Viv. But the twins are of age now. Let’s agree that it’s over. We’ll both be happier apart. We’ll get along much better and might even become friends again. One of us has to leave, and soon. If you don’t go, I will.”

That wasn’t at all what he had been expecting.