He just got into the car and I sat here at the dining room table in the dark, rain pouring out the window, and watched them drive away. They should be back in a couple hours. They're just going to pick up the boat. 'I love you', I whisper as I hold my hand to my chest. The only catch is that the boat was being repaired by a sketchy guy who has an addiction to feed and the work wasn't done and money wasn't paid or something and I know there's a gun in the backseat just in case. Everything should be fine. They went in a pair, they're calm and responsible. He knows how to defend himself if it comes to that but he told me it wouldn't. My heart just drove down the driveway. I hope it comes back.
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