Love and Missiles
On our eighth anniversary, Claire Young announced that she had already registered her marriage with her childhood friend.
She took him home, ordering me around as if it was only natural.
"Move to another room. Stan loves sunshine."
"Stan doesn't like sweets, so don't bake any when you're at home. He'd be upset if he saw it."
I kept quiet through it all and bought a ticket to leave.
My friend wanted to help me out of the predicament, but she didn't think it was a big deal.
"He's just being dramatic again. Let him be—he'd be caving in just a few days."
Everyone laughed at that, and quietly made bets as to when I'd come crawling back to Claire's feet.
None of them knew I was already inducted into the national weapons program, and that I was really leaving.