My wife was looking down at me and, even though she was crying, I could tell she was pissed."Are you going to sell that damn bike now? I knew something like this was going to happen!" she yelled.The fact that it wasn't my fault didn't matter. The fact that I wouldn't have avoided the accident by being in a car didn't matter. The fact that I was in a hospital bed with a phenominal headache didn't matter. She was pissed and the only thing that mattered was that she had to make sure I knew that and that I was going to do whatever was necessary to make her feel better. Well, I wasn't in the mood. "Apparently, I'm gonna live. Otherwise, you wouldn't be such a bitch right now. Although that's debatable, I guess."That set her back a step. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm just so worried and angry right now!" Notice how she deftly steered the conversation back to her. It went on like this for awhile till the nurse came in and said I needed to rest.I didn't break any bones, but I did dislocate. Then reality set in. I was one step closer to the end of my marriage. I should have been more upset, I told myself. But my marriage had essentially been over for many years already. We just got too comfortable in our contempt to do anything about it. I sat in one of the two over-stuffed chairs and simply stared at the wall for an hour or so. I think I drifted off into to a restless sleep. I had no concept of the current time, but I woke with a growling stomach. I looked at the bedside clock. It read 9:45 PM. It had only been about three hours since I left my family. It felt like an eternity. I quickly unpacked my clothes and put them away. I stashed the suitcases in the back of the closet. I noticed I had unwittingly pack a book I was trying to finish, and my laptop computer. I was happy to see the computer. I could try to write another short for the story site. I tucked my pass card into my wallet and left to get something to eat at one of the all-night restaurants in the.
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