My Husband

Ariane wakes up in a great mood on Thursday. Last night, her husband touched her on her shoulder in the dark, whispering repeatedly that he loved her very much. When she goes into the bath, she notices the temperature is cranked high, just as she likes, suggesting her husband prepared it for her. She dresses in yellow clothes, reflecting the joy she feels. 

Before she leaves for work, she pauses to check her hair in the mirror in the foyer and notices her missing book of science terms. She knows why she missed seeing it, and the reason makes her grin. It is because the yellow notebook was meant to be found on Thursday.

Ariane is also happy because it is a Thursday, which she views as another Monday, a day for resets. She misses two calls from her husband, and then calls him back to remind him to bring the children to the conservatory in the afternoon. Her buoyant mood begins to change around lunchtime, when the doubt creeps in that perhaps she dreamt of her husband’s declaration of love. However, she reminds herself that he said he loved her thrice. She could not have dreamt that.