She was so pissed off. It was Friday night and he was ‘working late’. Again.
He had texted an apology, but this was the third time in a week.
She put away the groceries and fed the cat, who came to sit on her lap in a show of silent solidarity.
An hour later he burst through the door, bringing the smell of snow and the enticing aroma of pizza.
He dropped the boxes on the table and swooped her in his arms.
“I’m sorry sweetheart.”
She kissed him ironically. “Trying to buy forgiveness?”
“No.” He grinned. “Feeding my love…”