“I’ve had it! I’m quitting this country!”
Marc recognized the voice of his wife as she stormed through the front door.
“Hi, Honey. Did you have a good day?” he asked, sarcastically.
Honey stomped the snow off her boots. “What was your first clue? I’m so sick of winter. We have to move. I don’t care where, as long as it’s warm.”
Marc gave Honey a big hug. “We can’t move.”
“Yes, we can. We can and we will. I’m done. And if you’re not coming with me, I’ll go by myself.”
“Would you really move without me?”
Honey hummed and hawed.
“You’re not serious,” said Marc.
Honey shrugged. “As far as I remember, our wedding vows said ‘richer or poorer’. I don’t remember anything about ‘warmer or cooler’.”
“I’m just saying.”
Marc grabbed his iPad and sat on the couch.
“What’re you doing?” she asked. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“Nope. I’m looking at houses in Panama.”
Marc looked Honey in the eye. “If you’re asking me to choose between you and a country, I choose you.”
“Aw,” said Honey. She sat in his lap and kissed him deeply.
Marc looked at Honey and smiled. “There’s more than one way to heat things up.”