“Look at the islands,” Susan exclaimed. “Little clumps of green in the infinity of the water. It would make such a romantic setting for a love story.”
“The ocean’s finite,” David didn’t even look up from his breakfast tray. “The editor would scrap your story.”
“But it seems endless. Look at it.”
“Your breakfast’s getting cold. Eat. Probably the last decent meal we’ll have this month. I won’t buy you a snack later just because you prefer to watch the scenery now.”
“David.... This trip was meant to make things better.”
“Here we go again. I suppose you’re about to threaten divorce?”
“David, please. We’re fighting.”
“You are fighting. I’m eating.” No emotion in David’s face. None. A mask of ice.
“Is it the money? Look, we’ve paid for the tickets already. We may as well enjoy the holiday.”
“It’s not the money.”
“Then, what’s wrong?” Susan leaned closer. She thought it might help to touch David’s hand. But she didn’t want to. Not now.
“Nothing.” Was it her imagination or did David move away a fraction? “Let’s not talk. Talking always makes things worse.”
Susan moved her eyelids rapidly, up and down, up and down. An insensitive husband. Not enough money to repair the fridge, let alone go on this vacation. Not enough time to follow a dream. How did it happen, she pondered, chewing her first Oriental meal. We used to be happy.
And then we got married.
She looked out the window again. An orange ribbon of a river, a dark jungle. So different from the tedious housework, the lackluster job, the overdrawn bank account. David was still here, of course, but she could ignore David. She would not let him spoil Thailand. To buy LOVE, RECYCLED