Harry had been home for over an hour when he heard Sara's car in the driveway.  He had sat in front of the TV without really hearing it, characters flitting about the screen like shadows on the wall.  His thoughts were on yesterday morning, one that began like most mornings. 

He and Sara were both getting ready for work, nothing out of the ordinary, though she would be gone overnight, at some convention.  Maybe that had added an unwanted pall to the morning, at least to his.  Maybe unconsciously --surely unconsciously--he resented her absence or the cause of it.  No, he couldn't accept that.   He was a liberated man, a man of today, one who took great pride in his wife's successes.  He smiled as he thought of her standing in front of a crowd, extolling the virtues of whatever self-improvement gimmick her employer was hawking.  No, it must have been something else entirely that set their day into a downhill slide, though he could not fathom what it was.

Indeed, he couldn't put his finger on what the argument was about or even clearly remember what was said.  They were talking about a weekend retreat on an island off the coast of North Carolina when everything went awry.  The things that stood out were the slammed door and lack of a goodbye kiss.  Many times, they had gotten angry, raised voices, slammed doors, but to leave town without at least a perfunctory kiss.  That had never happened before.  Later in the day, he tried calling her cell.  No answer.  That evening, he saw her cellphone, forgotten on the dresser.  Damn it!  Why hadn't he listened when she told him the name of her hotel?  He wasn't even sure whether she was in Charlotte or Charleston, North or South Carolina.  Sure, he could call someone to ask, but what a fool he would appear to be.  Besides, he knew she would call him to say goodnight.  She didn't.

Almost thirty-six hours since they had spoken, and now he sat wondering if they had lost it somewhere.  Twenty-five years of togetherness can be enough to rip a seam.  Linda, their daughter, had graduated from college two years ago, married and moved to Denver, Colorado, of all places.  Bob, their son, would graduate this year and seemed already foreign to him.  The boy came home only for the Christmas Holidays, and even then, he was out with his friends.  

Sara seemed to adjust to the empty nest better than he.  The thought made him cringe just a little.  Men aren't supposed to suffer "empty nest" syndrome, whatever that is.  Sara had thrown herself into her work, often staying late, taking the projects no one else wanted and getting promoted leapfrog-like until she became an  assistant VP, organizing out-of-town teaching seminars.  Like the proverbial light coming on, he realized he had let her down.  Maybe she had returned that favor, but the ball was in his court tonight.  

He heard the garage door open.  He  flicked off the TV, poured a glass of wine and walked toward the door.  

"Hey. Hard day?"

Sara shrugged and slipped out of her shoes, dropped her purse to the floor and reached for the glass.  She took a long sip, inhaled deeply and two days of tension evaporated.  Harry slid his arm around her.  Geez, he's handsome tonight and a glass of wine!  Coming home feels good.

"Guess what?"

Too tired for conversation and not sure she was up to any, Sara merely lifted her eyebrows and shrugged her shoulders.  

"I filled the bathtub, the bubble bath swirls and the spa is turned to warm.  Vanilla's your flavor, right?"

She smiled, handed him the glass and walked toward the bathroom.  No point in breaking this spell.  By the time she reached the tub, the last of her clothing dropped to the floor.  Almost simultaneously with her toe touching the pleasantly hot water radiating sensuous aroma, Harry handed her a second glass of wine.

"Why don't you slide down into that tub and let the bubbles float your troubles away.  I'll see if I can find us an old movie on cable."

She grabbed his hand, softly kissed his lips, opened his shirt to allow her tongue to graze his nipples, and ran her hand down his leg, stopping momentarily at his crotch,  as she settled into the tub.  He knows what it takes to turn me on. God, I love him! 

He stepped back slightly and chuckled. " Call me if you want a refill."

Their eyes met  and locked for a moment, as if reading each others' souls.  

They spoke simultaneously.  "I'm sorry."