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Here’s a small creator fic/backstory for Marnin because I’m procrastinating….

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Marnin bent over the stove, flipping the edge of the pancake up ever so slightly to peek underneath. Perfect. Withe the flipping skills that would make a famous chef envious, he quickly had the pancake browning on the other side. Humming to himself, he limped over, placing a lid on the bacon before depositing it on the table.

A very special breakfast almost ready for his very special lady on their very special day.

Sliding the last pancake onto the plate he sat it down before moving to the orange juice to pour the cups. He could hear her footsteps on the stairs. Just in time.

“What’s this?”

Marnin smiled, turning around to face his wife, Sherryn. Giving her a grin, just as goofy and love-stricken as the day he had proposed, he motioned to the table.

“I made breakfast for us.”

“Oh,” Sherryn made a tight-lipped face.

Not the reaction he was expecting. Frowning slightly he limped over. “What’s wrong? Do you not have time?” he glanced at the clock above the stove-top.

“No, I have time.”

She brushed past him, Marnin managing to get in a peck on the cheek before she sat down. Something wasn’t right. She looked as if she had been crying. Had he done something wrong?

“Where’s Gwyn?” Sherryn asked, popping the lid off the maple syrup.

“Safely with her grandparents who will do nothing but feed her sugar for the next twenty four hours before delivering her just in time for the sugar buzz,” Marnin took the seat across from her, fingering the two tickets in his pocket.

“Oh good.”

Marnin fidgeted, what was wrong? He was certain something was by now. Wait their anniversary was today, right?

“Happy anniversary,” he tried after minutes of silence.

Sharryn sighed heavily before getting up from the table. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t drag this out any longer.” She retrieved a stack of papers dropping them in front of him. “I’m sorry.”

Marnin blinked at the letters sprawled in cruel cold ink across the page. Divorce papers. A blank line waiting for his signature.

A divorce for their anniversary.

Clearing his throat, he looked up at her. “Sharryn…I thought we worked past all of…”

“Don’t give me that again,” she shook her head. “We’ve talked, got counseling, consulted trusted friends, but you just never keep your promises. You work ridiculous hours spending no time with me or your daughter. You aren’t being a husband or a father.”

“I…” Marnin blinked, feeling everything shutting down in his mind.

“And don’t try analyzing the situation,” She raised a hand. “My decision is final. I expect those to be signed when I get back.”

“Where are you going?” Marnin choked.

“To pick up Gwyn, we had planned to do some shopping today. I’m not going to disappoint her. Thanks for the breakfast, it was nice.”

She rose from the table, leaving her half empty plate, and headed for the door. Soon the car pulling out of the driveway could be heard. Marnin sat, stunned, at the table. Where had he gone wrong? He pushed the papers away, bending down and pressing his head against the table, wrapping his arms protectively around. A stifled sob escaped his lips.