I love you, marry me, Sally Anne

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I love you, marry me, Sally Anne

Danny and Sally Anne had been dating for three years. She knew on the first date he was “the one.”

She also knew, at this stage of the game (she was 42, divorced, with one son in college) Danny was both the love of her life and her “ticket.” He owned the two prosperous gas stations in town- one at each end of town.

Danny had a Jaguar X KE, a big house with the pool and his kids were launched and living in the city. He was “The Bachelor” every girl in town had her eye on – hoping for a rose.

Sally Anne knew she look great in skirts, shorts, and swimsuits. She worked it. And, she spent a lot of time at the salons: beauty salon, nail salon, and the Pilates salon. Her daddy left her some money, but it was evaporating.

When she was nervous, she did cross stitch, knitting, and embroidery. He kidded her about the number of pillows she was creating- every week there was a new pillow. When her friends got tired of her “pillow-gifts” she started dropping them off at Goodwill.

Apparently, seven was her lucky number and favorite number. In clever and discreet ways she embroidered the number on pillows, tea towels and pillowcases. She was passionate about pink and hearts and flowers.

On their three-year anniversary  Sally Anne planned an extraordinary meal replete with seven candles and seven red roses, Osso Bucco and polenta- his favorite. He had been unusually romantic the past couple of months and she had a feeling this evening was going to be “the night.”

All day, every day, Sally Anne thought about marrying Danny and him saying the seven magic words to her. The number seven was her secret code for “I love you, marry me, Sally Anne.”

After the exquisite dinner, she sat in front of the fireplace with Danny and he said, the seven most dreaded words in any relationship, “ Honey, you are too good for me.”

Absolutely aghast and devastated, she blurted out seven words meant to slam the door on womanizers and playboys,

“You are right, @#$*&! Get out now!”

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In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Seven Wonders.”

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