[ WP ] All you hear is a dripping noise .

`` Hon, I'm back...'' 
 
 It's a tentative sort of greeting, the kind that accompanies peering around corners before walking into the room. The man has been on edge for the past few months, does n't feel comfortable in his home. Still, it is his home. His home, his life, and even if he is n't particularly happy with where it is now, he's still happy with it. 
 
 He slips off his loafers, takes a moment to wriggle his toes and then another to notice the contrast between his navy socks and the white carpet, and finally one to compare it to the blue and white bouquet in his hands. 
 
 `` Tasha?'' 
 
 He walks into the study, then to the kitchen, where he hears it: the dripping. And then he feels it, a droplet falling neatly onto the top of his head, just where his hair is starting to thin. It sends a shiver down his spine. 
 
 The man looks up and his eyes widen at the yellow stain spreading across his ceiling. 
 
 `` God,'' he whispers. Then pleads, `` Oh, God.'' 
 
 The flowers fall to the floor and he takes off, taking the stairs two at a time. He bangs his hip on the handrail on his way up, but does n't even take a second to wince. He remembers the last time this happened. It ca n't happen again. His socks are squelching in the carpet now. God, there's so much water. 
 
 `` Tasha, God.'' 
 
 Please no, he ca n't take this again. 
 
 The man throws the bedroom door open, trying to brace himself but knowing he wo n't be successful if... He forces down the thought, opens the bathroom door. 
 
 His wife is standing there in the middle of the bathroom, hair and clothing soaked and messy. 
 
 `` Tasha,'' he chokes, and she turns to him with big earnest eyes. 
 
 `` The sink was leaking. I tried to fix it,'' she explains, and he notices her entire body shaking from the cold. 
 
 He wants to cry. He wants to laugh. But what he wants most is to hold her, so he does so. The water soaks into his suit. 
 
 `` I'm sorry,'' she stammers. 
 
 `` We'll call a plumber. It's okay.'' 
 
 `` It's okay?'' she repeats, nuzzling into his lapel. 
 
 `` It's okay.'' 
 
 
 

