"It was all my fault, honey," Ethan assured her. "But, look at the bright side: I found your book, so not everything is lost." He held up the book and walked towards her. He was shirtless and looking jealously at the woman who was screaming in the living room. Mabel was Ethan's wife and the most beautiful woman in the world. Her black hair flowed down long and silky. Her anthracite-black eyes were as the dark night. Her lips were as red as blood.
Mabel glared at him. "First of all, thank you for the handkerchief. Now, do not try to sweet talk me." She brushed him off, and glared at her reflection in a mirror. She opened the hall closet and took out her suitcase.
"Are you even going to talk to me?" Ethan said meekly.
"Listen, I made the mistake of going through with this trip. Now, I'm ready. You can hand me my bag and we can go. I'm not going to argue about this." Mabel said coldly.
"But what about--"
"The trip, Ethan!" Mabel interrupted him but her voice stayed calm. "What about the trip, huh? I don't think that you are ready for this trip. You're not ready to go with me. You're not ready... period!" She glared at Ethan.
Ethan looked hurt and started crying. "You never trust me. You didn't even trust my story that I don't read books, especially in the living room." Ethan started walking towards the door. "I'm leaving."
"Go ahead, and good riddance. You were a complete failure as a husband. Go and find a nice, sweet, pretty wife, who will take care of you." Mabel said.
Ethan stopped in his tracks and stared at her. She was the nicest person that he could ever imagine, and she was the most beautiful woman that he has ever met. "How can you say that about me?" he asked, breaking down into bawling.
Mabel started to cry. "I'm sorry," she quickly wiped her tears with her sleeve, "Ethan, I'm sorry. I just don't want any more sadness. I don't want any more heartache." Mabel walked towards Ethan and hugged him tightly. After they stood there in silence for a few moments, Mabel said, "I want to go on this trip with you. Really."
Ethan remained silent.
Mabel hugged him tighter than tight, as if she wanted to absorb him into her body. She wanted to feel all of him, mind, body, and soul. As she hugged, she gradually felt lighter. She knew that it was all going to be all right. Everything would be fine. She did trust Ethan, even though he was a loser, she did trust his stories.
"Do you want to know about what I found on the road?" Ethan said.
"Yes. Tell me." Mabel asked.
"Well, I went to decode the manuscript code," Ethan started, "Once I got the code... I got into the more private stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" Mabel asked curiously.
"Well, it was section A-4," Ethan said, "The first line in the code was a certain descriptor." Ethan hesitated. He could not say the letters in the descriptor. He'd rather not cry again. It was after all his fault. Ethan sighed and said, "Section A-4 is about my little brother."
Mabel's face turned pale faced. "Oh, Ethan, you didn't."
Ethan didn't answer.
"What were you thinking?" Mabel swirled around the room, screaming, angrily. "My husband is an irresponsible idiot! He can't even convince me to go on a genuinely good trip. My husband can't convince me to buy a new car. What kind of luck I have?"
"I'm sorry, Mabel. I tried to make a story without using the numbers." Ethan sobbed, and held her hand. "Without going back to the events of the past. We never talked about that. I did my best. You have to believe me." He sobbed and ran out of his house.
