"That one afternoon, I kissed you. In the middle of the street, where a white truck zoomed past our connected lips. And boy, it caused problems we couldn't have seen, but wasn't it also amazing?"
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I started noticing that Deen and I were arguing more. It had been weeks since Deen's birthday and in those weeks we had many alterations. It felt weird because we never had exchanged words like this before. It wasn't like we were cussing at each other but whenever Deen said something it was like a trigger for me to respond.
Slowly, my mind weakened. When Deen went to work, I grimaced. When he told me he had found this new place to sing at, I rolled my eyes. More late nights, more cigar smoke on his clothing, and drunken women throwing themselves at him.
If you don't do better, those drunken women will succeed in their tactics, the voice inside my head spoke. But then it said this, do you think you'll ever be anything other than a trophy wife if you continue what you're doing? I went through periods of severe insecurity where I practically did everything society said to keep Deen with me. He never noticed how I truly felt but instead smiled when I fixed extravagant lunches or tied his tie perfectly. I also went through periods when I wanted to be anywhere away from Deen so that I could be Paislee and not just a wife. This was usually when most of our fights happened. I wanted to prove to him that I was more.
Because wasn't I? I was more than just a body for sex or a reason for Deen to brag about how he was such a good man. The arguments started with these feelings that I refused to tell Deen because I wanted to be a good wife like the ones in the public. But when Deen told me about his hard work at his job or avoided talking about finances with me, that's when I got angry. He didn't do it on purpose but it was always "Don't worry" or "I got it, sweetheart" instead of just telling me the truth.
"Always start off the week off with a clean house because it shows that you're aware. It doesn't hurt to also bake some goods either! Cookies, cakes, or pastries work fine. Use this recipe below. . ." I read from the magazine sitting on my lap. My finger traced every word and I sighed looking around the house.
I had just put up some clothes so I was fine there but I knew we didn't have chocolate chips for a batch of cookies and we were low on dish soap. I got up heading for the pantry and saw all of the ingredients for cookies except for chocolate. On a mission, I went and grabbed my keys, purse, and coat and headed out the door.
The weather was cold and I examined the white sky that threw cool winds from all directions at me. I finally made it to the city and by that time, my hands were stiff with cold and my hair voluminous from all the breeze blowing. The grocery store wasn't far but I walked slower to see all of the holiday decorations and festive clothes people were wearing.
My heels clicked rhythmically until they stopped tapping. A new store near the grocery store appeared. I looked up at its title and discovered that it was a women's department store. A colored-only sign resided beside the store name as well. In the window of the shop, I saw a sign that said: CURRENTLY HIRING.
