Julia sat in the lobby of the hotel, feeling lost and alone among the many people passing through the lobby. Her anger had gotten the better of her again, and last evening, she had raved and ranted at her husband of ten years, Charles, who had simply told her that he was too tired to go on another excursion.
As she had screamed and berated him in front of other guests, he had walked away. And now, it was morning, and he was still gone. He should have been calmly enjoying the paper as they shared breakfast.
When her phone had rang and she had seen Charles’s name, she had enthusiastically answered the phone, speaking the words that she had said so many times, “Sweetheart, I am so sorry! I will get help with my anger, I promise you!”
Not waiting for his response, she had told him that she was in the lobby of the hotel waiting for him, so that they could catch the hotel shutter to the botanical gardens, the excursion that he wanted to forego. “Hurry up and come, before we miss the bus!” she had said.
She had just assumed that he would forgive her and that all would be well, as always happened before. But, he had answered, “I am at the airport. I came in while you were asleep and packed my things. I refuse to live with your anger any longer. By the time you get home, I will be gone. When you finally and truly seek help, then call me. I love you, but I can’t do this any more!”
And he had hung up before she could start screaming again!
Fictional story written for the Three Things Challenge hosted by Pensitivity 101: anger, hotel, and paper.