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A Day with No Regrets
“Babe, let’s take it back to the beginning.”
It was the third time we had fought in an hour. This go-around, we couldn’t agree on the exact shade of green we wanted to paint our family room. Michael kept eyeing me with the seriousness of someone who took himself far too seriously every godforsaken day of his life.
“Em, I love you, but you’re driving me nuts here,” he said as he flipped through the paint swatches again. “There are four walls. That’s it. There’s no big commitment. If you don’t like it, we can just paint over it with something you like better.”
“Oh, yeah, you say that now,” I said, “but what about when we need to go to the store again to pick up a few more cans of paint? Will I ever hear the end of that one, Mike?”
He chewed his bottom lip — never a good sign. But I was ready, invisible gloves up to feint and flex with his verbal jabs.
But he disappointed me in this regard, only allowing a soft sigh to escape his lips. He held up the white remote we kept next to the kitchen clock. “Okay, how about a rewind? We can start the day over, if you’d like.”
It was tempting. Hourglass Tech, as it was called, allowed for small bursts of time travel — the only kind that was legal and ethical — and every couple registered with the government had a…
