I could write it better than you ever felt it

Chapter one

"For fuck sake!" The foul language echoed around the empty space that was the stationary car. The enraged driver hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. "Useless fucking son of a ..." She caught herself & stopped swearing at the unhearing car in front of her windshield. She let out an angry sigh, 'Why' she thought to herself 'Why can't i just take the L like everyone else?' She knew the answer, of course, her husband didn't want his new bride taking the L, he wanted to keep her safe, keep her protected, so it was the car for her. It was kinda sweet really that he was so protective of her but completely unnecessary in her mind. She looked at the clock on the dash & swore again. For as early as she'd left the house was as late as she was going to be for work. Her boss's stern face popped into her mind's eye, maybe she should text Annie & let her know? Annie's voice entered her head unbidden "First day back from honeymoon & you're late, don't think you'll be getting special treatment or anything because you're married now, you'll be treated just like anyone else" Annie's eyes seemed to bore into her even from a memory, yeah, decision made. She started digging in her bag for her phone, retrieving it she wrote "Annie, sitting in traffic on 7th & Elm, I'm going as fast as humanly possible S" & send. She dropped the phone on her lap.

She knew from a young age she'd wanted to be a journalist, she'd been the school papers editor, the yearbook editor, captain of the creative writing club in high school & the drive to be a journalist had only grown as she did. She didn't know what field of journalism she wanted to study until she started college. The college magazine had asked her to review & interview an up & coming trio, a little band punk-pop band called Green Day doing the rounds trying to make a name for themselves. As the lights went down that night & the first few bars of 'When I come around' filled the auditorium the shiver that ran up her spine told her she'd found her calling, a music journalist. There had been no leg ups in her career. Her folks weren't rich, they had no connections so the only way to get to the top was bloody hard work! And that's what she'd done, look at her now senior writer for Alternative Press magazine!

Her phone vibrating brought her back to herself, she looked down, the screen read "Noted" 'Urh Annie' she thought as she brushed some random cotton off her skirt. As she brushed the faux leather she remembered her husband that morning "are you sure about that skirt?" he'd asked as she'd looked at herself in the full-length mirror that stood at the bottom of their bed "what's wrong with it?" She'd asked him. He sat up in bed "it's a bit..." he shrugged his shoulders, she'd rolled her eyes & walked over to where he was laying "it's a good job you're pretty" she had told him & leaned in to kiss him, he beamed that big white toothy grin of his & returned the kiss. Oh that grin, that beautiful big smile, she reminisce, that grin made the corners of his eyes turn up. It was her smile, it was for her eyes only, no matter what the day had thrown at them, how vile Annie had been, how sad she felt she knew that smile, that secret smile was just for her & the thought of it shone like a beacon in her heart. Yes, he smiled at other people, yes, he smiled at other women too that was part & parcel of his job, but he never used that smile with anyone else, just her, her heart physically burnt in her chest with the love she felt for her wonderful, silly, handsome, intelligent, sexy husband.