[ WP ] An angel tells you that your husband/wife is not your soulmate and is destined to be happier with another person ...

I rose from a pleasant dream into a waking nightmare. 
 
 Harsh lights shone down above me as I blearily rubbed at my sleep-crusted eyes, staring at the figure sitting in front of me in incomprehension. He was dressed in a friggin' toga, of all things. Big floppy feathered wings stuck out from his back while the thing shifted uneasily in his leather seat. 
 
 Apparently, he noticed me gaping at him and smiled. 
 
 `` Ah, good! You're awake at last! My name is Galadriel, uh, Gabriel! Yes, I'm the angel Gabriel and I have some bad news for you, Mr...'' the apparition made a show of glancing at my desk before continuing. `` Mr. Wilson. I'm sorry to be the one to break this to you, but...'' 
 
 Oh, right. I'd been working overtime, trying to finish the bloody documents. Must've fallen asleep in the office... 
 
 `` Hey, hey! Listen to me here! Look, mate, it's just not gon na work out between you and Laurie, alright? You're just not her type, hmm? And she deserves better than some guy working nine to five at a dead end job! I mean, just look at yourself! Really, this is for your own good, you know...'' 
 
 `` Gabriel'' trailed off, fidgeting with his robes as he sat there, waiting for a response. Even through the fog of sleep, I could see that something was wrong. 
 
 Then it hit me. 
 
 `` Are your wings made out of *styrofoam*?'' 
 
 `` W-what? No! I'm an angel from Heaven, and I'm telling you, you're not Laurie's type, buddy!'' 
 
 I squinted, and felt a flicker of recognition stir as I met the guy's gaze. He was getting agitated now, looking towards the open door and back at me as if deciding whether to make a run for it. At last, a name came to me. 
 
 `` You're fucking Dylan, are n't you? Her crazy ex?'' 
 
 `` N-no...'' 
 
 `` What the actual fuck, Dylan?'' 
 
 He bolted for the door. I did n't bother to follow him. 
 
 God, I hate Thursdays.
