I used to be so mad at you, she said. Just angry. And, for what? Nothing. There was nothing you did wrong. Perfect in every way. Maybe that’s why I left; got tired of it.

You knew what you were getting, he told her. Knew what I was all about. I wanted to be the perfect husband. And in doing so, I drove you away.

You brought home flowers every night. Made tea for me. Fixed dinner sometimes. It was too much, she said.

Somewhere between too much and not enough, he said.

No. Just too much. You drowned me in love. Most women would want that, I suppose. I felt like I was suffocating. Couldn’t catch my breath.

So, you left.

Yeah. Sorry about telling you in a text. I thought of telling you in person, but I chickened out.

I see.

You’re happy now?

I am. You?

No. I’ll never be happy. Happiness is something few people have. You’re lucky, she playfully punched his shoulder. You’re damn lucky.