Franny hadn't thought she would have spotted Rhys in the shops on the way home from work. At least he wasn't at the pub. He was picking up a few groceries.
"So has he wrote you a poem yet," Rhys teased seeing that Byron was in a baby hugger of some sort attached across Franny's chest.
She smiled, grabbing a box of pasta and milk.
"He sings." She finally spoke to Rhys.
"And you like the married life?" Rhys nodded.
"Not much has changed. Really. I forget my last name, sometimes." Franny shrugged.
"That's a bad sign, isn't it?" Rhys gave her an impish look.
"I'll make sure to eat my brain food then. Curry is the key, you know." She nodded.
"I'll be sure to pass that on to Sash." He grabbed his milk and put back the girly mag. Then settled for a newspaper as if he might be an intelligent person, after all.
"Tell her I'll pop in tomorrow." Franny told him.
"I'm sure she'd like that." He left then. He seemed different, somehow. As if he really was settling in to married life right now. She was happy for him. Franny felt elated somehow as she carried her items home. She couldn't wait to make Cecil dinner.
10 hours ago