That Wedding

Pastor shakes his head at me. "Phillip, how did that make you feel?"

Oh. My. Gosh.

Who cares how it made it him feel?

It wasn't like I was being mean. I was just proving my point. And clearly, I made my point. Which is what pissed him off. He wasn't mad about the shoes. He was mad he got caught being like a double agent.

Or what's that word when you say one thing, but you do something else? Like when you're in high school and your parents tell you not to smoke pot, but then one night you find them getting high in the hot tub? I know, it's hypocritical. Basically bullshit.

Phillip tells Pastor, "It made me feel mad. I didn't think it was any of her business what I'd spent. Plus, she was mocking me."

"I was mocking him because not only did he buy the wheels, he also ordered the horsepower chip. The four thousand dollar horsepower chip. He's complaining I spent two hundred dollars on shoes he thought I didn't need, when he'd just spent six thousand dollars on things his car didn't need!"

Pastor fold his hands on the desk. I see him glance at the sky. Probably saying a prayer for Phillip. "So why did that make you mad, Phillip?"

"I got mad when she starting going on and on about how I don't pay rent, but I live with her. How we don't share our money yet. It was all bullshit."

"Phillip!! It wasn't bullshit, and you know it. It was true."

"Whatever," Phillip says.

"Okay," Pastor interrupts, "so you were both mad. You're both mad now just talking about it. How did you solve the conflict? What happened next?"

"I wasn't mad, Pastor. I thought it was freaking fu

Phillip gives me an evil glare. I can tell he's sticking his tongue out at me in his mind.

"So what did you do?" Pastor asks again.

"I waved the keys out the door at him, and then I ran in the bedroom."

I glance at Phillip. He's trying hard not to smile, but the corners of his mouth are betraying him.

"That's it? You hid the keys in the bedroom?"

Phillip now has a full-on grin. "No, she stripped down to some sexy lingerie, laid on the bed, and held my keys hostage."

I raise my eyebrows at Phillip. He's not telling the exact truth. "I did not hold the keys hostage. You told me I don't play fair, and then you took them from me."

I sorta forget where we are. I stare at Phillip's adorable face and look deep into his eyes. He grins at me, grabs my hand, and says, "You don't play fair. You never have."

I wrap a strand of hair around my finger, lick my lips, and think about how he threw me on the bed, how hot it was. "You didn't seem to mind, Phillip."

He runs a finger slowly up the side of my thigh. "Yeah, you're right."

God, he's sexy.

Then I think, shit. Speaking of God, we're in church with a pastor staring at us.

Um, awkward much?

Pastor coughs. "So you solved the conflict with sex. Here's the problem. You didn't solve the conflict. You just temporarily forgot about it. You solved nothing. Sex solves nothing. Phillip, you got mad again just discussing it. That's what happens when you don't deal with problems. They sit in your mind and fester. When you do that enough, they eventually grow into an infection. They infect your marriage with doubt, and you stop respecting each other. You have to take each other's concerns seriously or that infection will ruin your marriage."

I really wa

Who does that?

He really doesn't make marriage sound all that fun. I'm just saying.

Pastor continues. "It's really not about the shoes, in this instance, or about the money. It's about control. Who wears the proverbial pants in the family. Think about that, and we'll discuss it more next time. Our time is up. See you in a few weeks."

We get in the car, and I say, "Marriage counseling is bullshit. He hasn't taught us anything. Sure, he told us we did it wrong, but he didn't say how to fix it. Talking about it didn't fix it."

"Well, it's something to think about, and there's some validity to what he's saying. There's a gal at work who's going through a divorce, and I heard her talking in the lunchroom about her husband. She was bringing up stuff from the past eight years. I'm thinking she didn't talk to him about their problems, or he didn't listen. Whichever, they didn't fix them at the time, and she's held it against him for a long time."

"Phillip, eight years from now, we're going to laugh about the shoe fight. I laugh about the shoe fight now. It was fu

"Yeah, it was. Plus, you're sexy."

"Really? Like do you really think I'm sexy, Phillip?"

"Yeah, wa

"Shoe me?"

"I mean show you. I just said shoe because shoe, the shoes, you know."

"It wasn't that fu

"That'd be a joke. Do you wa

"Yeah, for a bit. I'm pretty sure I'm go

We went to the bar, had some tacos, and a couple tequila shots. For obvious reasons, Phillip is usually the designated driver, so I maybe had one more shot than he did, and when we got home, I was ready for some fun.

I was stripping my clothes off in the bedroom when Phillip walks in. He grins at my nakedness and says, "Just so we're clear, I'm the man. I wear the pants in the family." He points down to his pants. "See?"

I tilt my head, grin, and walk my naked ass slowly over toward him. I grab the front of his jeans and unbutton them. "Not if I can take them off you."

So apparently, Lori and Da

And I guess Da

And Lori was like, "Da

To which Da

And Lori continued. "...it is not in your contract that you have to pose with cheerleaders kissing you."

Da

He stormed out of their house.

Lori sat there, watched the door close, and whispered to herself, "She got pregnant."