You know the bed feels warmer, sleepin’ here alone. –Kelly Clarkson
Warren looked down the short hallway towards his son’s room.
Terry wasn’t home yet, despite the late hour, but Warren wasn’t too worried. Terry was a good kid, despite the recent problems in turning in his classwork. He knew that his son knew what was required and he also knew that his son was still upset about the split between his parents.
Warren missed his wife. Despite the legal papers stating otherwise, Mary was still his wife and he loved her and missed her. He missed holding her in his arms as they fell asleep after a long day at work. He missed breathing in the slight scent that always emanated from her no matter what she tried to cover it up with. She smelled like fire and ice but without the smokey undertones that most people would associate with those two scents mixing.
“Warren, I don’t want to smell like that! It makes me think of Al’s science lab.”
“Mary,” he’d respond, “Al’s lab doesn’t smell like that. It smells like chemical fire and acid ice. They are not the same thing.”
“That is not the point. I’m trying to smell-”
“‘Normal’? Mary, there’s nothing wrong with smelling different than the norm.”
She’d frown at him and he’d smooth a finger between her eyes and tease her about getting wrinkles there too early.
He missed being able to treat her like his wife.
The door downstairs opened.
“I’m home, Dad!”