WHEN YOU LOVE

BLOODY HELL

Sana sighed in front of the mirror. She had to tell Lee, but she feared his reaction. Okay, fear was an exaggerated word. The woman just didn't want to spoil the excellent new year mood and groove. Again, she reminded herself she was doing it for the sake of the move, their relationship, and him.

Especially him, thus it was what Lee had to understand.

Lee wondered why his swearing jar stroke a pose on his coffee table. He hadn't sworn in significant terms for ages.

He used the word bloody like a multi-purpose cleaner.

Bloody this, that or the otherㅡa succession of the cleaning spray's pshitt sounds could replace the word. The term was typical, if not to say treasured English vocabulary, definitely not a swear word.

The French had their less edgy equivalent, "bon sang."

Lee had heard Sana say it a couple of times. The man loved when she spoke French. Her voice was deeper, whereas it sounded as though she chirped when she spoke in English.

"Sana," Lee called.

"Yes, Lee," the woman left the bathroom and went to the living room.

"Did you put this here?" The man asked when she arrived.

"Yes."

Lee frowned while Sana took a seat on the sofa and patted the spot next to her.

"What is it?" Lee asked as he joined her.

The woman turned to the side to face him, "Lee, I know you've made a lot of efforts, but I live here; you'll have to stop with all the swear words."

"Ha, I knew it. I knew there was a catch when I saw that jar posing pretty on the table like a bloody omen."

Sana glared at him.

"What?" The man said, widening his eyes at her, "bloody isn't a swear word. Come on, Sana. Cut me some slack."

The woman sighed. She didn't only place the jar on the table to give the man her conditions. Sana left it there to anticipate what was to come, and she didn't even have time to introduce her main subject that Lee began, "enough with this. Okay, I'll lower the volume on my bloody, if that's what you want. At what time are you leaving?"

"Actually, I'm not leaving today," Sana said.

The man frowned at the affirmation, "you aren't? Haven't you got work tomorrow? I mean, French sales are around the corner?"

"Well, I have a job interview here."

"You do?" Lee's face lit up. He didn't expect things to go so quickly. For the moment, 2022 held its promise.

"Really, in which branch and company?" Lee asked with enthusiasm.

"ㅡeh, it's in the company."

"What they're willing to transfer you? Great, in which store."

"Actually, ㅡall the store manager positions were out of London. It didn't make sense for me to apply for them. I mean, I'm moving here to be with you, not to leave at 6 am and be back at 8 pm."

It made sense. Lee didn't want that either.

"Then what are they offering you?"

"Emㅡ," the woman hesitated before saying, "to work in the product department. My last interview is tomorrow."

Lee's blood didn't even have time to make a round trip to his heart and back that its pressure rose, "what in Olaf Nielsen's department? Fucking hell, Sana, of all the bloody shitty departments, it has to be that bloody Krisprolls-eating mongrels.