I Thee Wed
She clinches her teeth and closes her eyes. The sounds of the night dance outside the windows and whisper in the dim light. She gives up and sits up and stares at the man beside her. Her name is Emily. Emily Morelli, nee Hasting. She's thirty-one years old, makes the best apple pie in the world, and loves red red roses and homemade ice cream. And tonight, she tried and tried and tried but still cannot sleep. Now her headache is building into a major migraine, and both her eyes have started to twitch.
Love. Trust. Laughter. And babies. Joe's smiling eyes. Joe's wonder hands. Joe's magic lips. Joe's funny dirty jokes. Joe's sweet garlic breath. Her beautiful shining diamond ring. Her heart. Her soul. And her vows. Happiness. Loyalty. A promise to keep. Joe's dirty laundry. Joe's shady history. Joe's hot Italian temper. Joe's stubbornness. Joe's secret dreams.
This is not what she bargained for. She most definitely didn't sign up for this.
She has to put a stop to this.
She grabs hold of her pillow, takes a deep calming breath, puts it on Joe's face, and holds it right there. Till he stops twitching.
She smiles and yawns and finally loosens her grip. There, the snoring has stopped. Now she can finally, finally, have a good night's sleep.