My fiance and I had been married for more than ten years.
I knew he was a Heating and A/C worker.
He was an Heating and A/C worker when I met him, and he was still an Heating and A/C worker. Everyone knew what he did for a living, because it was all he talked about. I hated to say it, but there were some things more important to talk about than Heating and A/C. There was something I needed to tell him, but he wouldn’t shut up long enough for me to say anything. I felt like I wanted to grab him, tie him to the chair, and have a one-sided conversation with him when he couldn’t talk. We were at the dinner table last year when he started rambling on about his job again. He laughed every so often, but I didn’t hear a word he was saying. He offered to pour me a glass of wine, but I declined. Normally he would say something when I say no to wine, but he was so into his story, it was like he didn’t even know I was there. I got up and went to the lavatory, and when I returned, he smiled at me. He picked up with his story about his latest Heating and A/C silly story, and I rolled my eyes in desperation. He stopped only to take a sip of his wine, and I told him if he said one more word about Heating and A/C, I was going to beat him. His smile suddenly disappeared. He told me all I had to do was say something. I shouted I was pregnant, which got me a kiss, but then he went into a story about a pregnant lady who was having heat flashes.
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