My name is Devin, but everybody calls me Sketch. I opened my own tattoo shop two years ago, and I've finally gotten to the point where I'm going to be able to give my wife everything she's ever wanted. I'm going to be able to take time off and spend a day a week with her. In fact, tonight, I stopped and grabbed some wine, got her flowers, and those chocolates she likes.
What I wasn't prepared for was to be met at the front door by her carrying her shit out.
She loves me, but she's not in love with me anymore. What kind of bullshit excuse is that? I've left her alone too often, I've been completely focused on one goal, and apparently she's sick of waiting.
So here I stand. Half the man I was, pissed as f - k, because while I was busy making a better life for us, she was under the impression I was leaving her lonely. I know one day she'll see what I've been doing has been for us, and when that day comes, she can damn well come crawling back to me.
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