by jexmas on January 23, 2016

“What’s that smell?” you said as soon as you walked in the door.

“What smell?” I replied.

“That…that…cloying..oh, I know what it is…vanilla! I hate that smell. Where’s it coming from?” you said, as you were looking around the living room.

“Oh,” I said, feeling a mixture of shame and disappointment since I had put a perfumed candle on each of our nightstands and a bunch of flowers in a vase on the dining table. Dinner had been keeping warm in the oven and I had been thinking about the warmth and love I felt for you. I was waiting for you to come home. I wanted you, was ready for you, but

you were not there and I shut myself down so fast.

“I had no idea you didn’t like vanilla. They’re just candles. I’ll put them out.”

“Thanks,” you said. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I just hate that smell. I don’t get the whole perfumed candles thing. They give me a headache. And I’ve had a really exhausting day at work.”

You walked into the kitchen. “Now, that’s a smell I can embrace,” you said, sniffing the air infused with the aromas of slow-cooked lamb marinated in Mediterranean spices. As you went to the fridge to get yourself a beer, I went into our bedroom, snuffed out the candles and put them in my nightstand drawer. “Maybe they are a bit sickly,” I thought to myself.

“You are amazing,” you said. “This lamb makes up for everything I suffered today with those idiots at work.”

You came over to me and wrapped your arms around me, holding me tight, breathing in the smell of my hair.

“Mmm, even you smell great,” you said. “How much longer will the lamb take?”
“About half an hour,” I said.

“I am so glad you said that,” you said smiling at me with your open heart and shining eyes. “Let’s go and make it worthwhile.”

“Okay!” I said, marveling at how things that seem so derailed actually never left the track.

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