Sarah had spent the entire day preparing for a romantic dinner for her husband Mark; candles had been set up along with the dinner set and she had dressed in that beautiful dress he had always said made her look gorgeous anyway. She wanted this dinner to breathe some life into the dying embers of a love deeply secluded in the cavernous state of neglect she had clawed the way into.
And when Mark stepped inside the house, everything that Sarah had hoped for came crashing down on the floor.
“What is all this?” He yelled, his eyes glaring down at the table, dispassionately set.
Sarah bit her lip and gave a faint smile. “I just thought…maybe…we could have a nice evening together.”
He looked at her with eyes that seemed to give witness to the absolute hideousness of what stood before him. “We don’t have time for this nonsense; I need to get back to work without your time-wasting house pretense.” He then slapped his way up the stairs, contempt and hatred streaming down the steps with him, leaving her thoroughly embarrassed.
As tears welled in her eyes, she blew out the candles, grabbed a small bag, and left. Away from him, if only to think—that was what she needed. How could she tolerate further humiliations from him?
Hours went by as Mark sat in silence in the house; slowly, his anger started to fade into worry. Where on earth was Sarah? He began to call her, but there was no answer, only the voice mail. And just then, there was a loud bang on the door. Regretful thoughts creeped in.
He got a police officer looking grim when he opened the door.
“Mr. Thompson?” said the officer. “We need to talk.”
Mark’s entire being felt leaden. Something must have happened to Sarah.
The officer produced a phone—Sarah’s phone. “We found this near the train tracks. Do you have any idea where your wife might be?”
Mark felt his heart grow cold. Did she actually leave with him, thinking his silly words?
Then, as the officer spun around, a car came up, the headlights cutting through the darkness. The door was opened, and Sarah emerged—alive, but pale and red-eyed from tears.
“Sarah!” He rushed forward, guilt and relief washing over him.
The office glanced between the two. “We got a call about a distraught woman about the tracks. She’s fine but you two obviously have some stuff to work out.”
Sarah hugged herself, avoiding his gaze. “I just needed to get away…to think.”
Mark swallowed; he had come this close to losing her, not because of an accident, but because of his own damn cruelty.
That night, sitting together in silence, Mark began to understand: love is not about big things; it is about kindness, grace, and never taking for granted the person who loves you.
