Monica was going out with some of her friend the night the accident happened. She had told me to go to bed and that she'd be home around twelve when we talked before she left.
"I love you, Monica. Never forget that." I told her and kissed her with meaning.
"I know, Jack. You tell me ever time I leave the room we were in." Monica said jokingly while gathering her purse. She was in a hurry because she took too long in the shower.
"Does this mean you don't love me back?" I asked with a pouty face and stuck my bottom lip out.
"No, Jack, I do!" Monica whacked me with her purse then kissed me back with just as much - if not more - meaning than I had shown her. "I couldn't tell you how much I love you", she said while twisting side to side and giving me sweet looks. "Not even if the sky was my paper and the ocean was my ink!"
I loved when she did that. When she said cute things that made me blush or left me speechless. She knew what got to me in the best ways, and she knew I loved it. Monica was literally the perfect woman. Beautiful, smart, funny, talented, and mine. All mine.
"Babe, you should go." I urged her to leave, while scooting her to the door.
"Wait, one more thing!!" Her body perked up a little and she threw her hand in the air by her face.
"If I was an author you'd be my story." We said at the same time. "I know you always say that. Now go. Bye!" I walked away from the door as she ran down to her friends car, got it, then left.
