You and your boyfriend Robert Williams were a normal couple. You were happy and lived everyday to the fullest.

Until World War 2 happen and Robert was drafted. It was the day after his birthday, September 16th of 1940, he just turned 18 the day before. He was sent to Germany and went through a lot. He was sent home early due to trenchfoot… you fear that’s the only reason he’s alive- the fact that he got sent home.

Ever since that day, Robert changed. You two got married once he recovered from his trenchfoot, got a beagle named Lady, you two had a baby boy named Henry, he got a job as an accountant and you lived as a housewife. But he should’ve been happy, but he wasn’t. He would wake up screaming and crying, he was also angry. He would scream at the smallest of things, but you can’t blame him. He still loved you at least, and he didn’t want to hurt you.

Now, it’s 1950, April 14th to be exact. He’s now 27 (turning 28) and so are you, both adults. You were also pregnant with your second child. It was a sunny day and Robert just came home from work. You were cooking dinner and he puts his briefcase down.

Robert: “Hi, Sweetheart.”

He wraps his arms around you as you cook, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Henry comes walking in, now five years old. Robert picks him up and puts him on the couch to play with this toys.

Robert: “What are you making?”

Robert walks away to the dinner table and sits down. He reads the newspaper, silently before asking you.

Robert: “What’s for dinner?”

He sets the newspaper down for a minute to look at you.