I remember that, after another violent argument with the Colonel, she ran away one night, carrying nothing more than the clothes she was wearing.

All searching was ultimately in vain.

I never told anyone this before, Platero, but I have sheltered her for over a week, until the search was given up.

Pete stared out the window, surprised at his boredom. ‘Cabin fever’ was becoming a thing. Alan and Dick each had areas staked out, and Pete felt like any incursion on his part might lead to an argument.

All he could see outside were stars. The moon would come into view in a few minutes, but that brought its own set of painful thoughts.

The quarantine order had come several days ago. John signed off saying, “You’re safer there than back home.”

For twenty years, she was my everything. The smile in my morning, the sunshine in my day. But now it is dark and quiet.

One argument led to cruel words. Cruel words led to hurt feelings. Hurt feelings took time to heal, but heal they did. Things returned to normal for us. Life continued for us as a couple. Then it happened.

Dennis plead his case with the self-assurance of someone who refused to consider another point of view. Amy pitied him.

“It doesn’t matter what he said to you. You can’t just punch someone.”

Amy’s pacifism, for all its naiveté, no longer had even a slight element of cuteness. Dennis knew firsthand how ugly the world could actually be.

The couple continued their argument, their voices drifting across the park. Emily shook her head. It was obvious they were terrible for each other.

She started fading and could not take care of herself; he was there.

She stopped recognizing him; he wouldn’t leave her side.

She needed more care than he could give so she moved into a facility; he moved in to be with her.

She faded from his sight after 63 years and 37 days of wedded bliss. I watched him cry for the first time that day.

Timothy walked into the boardroom carrying notebook and coffee, ready for anything. He dutifully took notes as the minutes were recited, then listened as each department head read their reports covering the previous 24 hours.

An argument broke out over the order of the reports. The company would not refer to it as an argument, but rather a protocol discussion. The minutes wouldn’t make note of the raised voices on both sides.

Eventually, the meeting broke up. Everyone returned to their cubicles.

“What a beautiful day,” she said.

I had an argument with my boss yesterday about not getting enough time off. Now I’m home and bored out of my mind watching the clock.

And it certainly wasn’t dishonest to keep her genuine opinions hidden when the truth could serve no purpose but to engender an argument. Even when she was honest, he would challenge her and pick apart every little detail, hoping to catch her in a falsehood. So what difference did it make if not everything was one hundred percent the truth?

Before leaving, she posted a note on its frame. Unlike the daily reminders she scribbled, this one was blank.

Her husband grasped at the sofa for comfort, nestling his body in her lingering perfume. Their terrier snuggled beside him.

His mind revisited their argument. Was he wrong to throw back insults at her?

When the doorknob turned, he looked up.

“I didn’t write you a note,” she said with her voice breaking.

“I noticed.”

For a while they sat together in silence watching the sunset.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I love you.”