Till Death Do We
She wakes up, smile happily, and yawns. The lovely cozy bedroom is now bathed in morning sunlight. She just had a good night's sleep. And a sweetest dream. In which she was still eighteen and madly in love with Donovan Sanders, the tall lanky boy living just down the street. He was her first, and they shared the same dreams. But now, she's Emily Morelli, and she doesn't know where Donovan is. Time had torn them apart. And, from time to time, she still dreams of the night she gave herself to him in the backseat of his cousin's pickup truck. She can close her eyes and see all the stars in the sky and Donovan's smile, and feel his warm breath on her bare skin. First love never dies. She sits up and lets out a sigh, and turns to contemplate the still unmoving man on the other side of the bed.
Cautiously she sniffs the air, decides there's no foul or strange smell in the air, and puts a tentative hand on Joe's neck. He's not cold yet, and she can feel a very faint pulse. Well, someone has to go out to work, bring home the bread, and pay all the bills. And she doesn't want to go to jail. So she braces herself, starts pounding on Joe's extremely hairy lean muscular chest, and then breathes air into his gaping mouth. Soon he starts to cough and slowly regain consciousness. She smiles brightly and congratulates herself. Good thing she knows CPR and has a certificate.
"Rise and shine, Joe."
But she will definitely cut down on the garlic from now on.