Righting a Wrong

Tuesday was Valentine's Day. I didn't realize until Sylvester approached me at the meeting and asked me what I had gotten Abigail.
After the meeting, I ran into town and bought chocolates, and picked some flowers on my way home. When I arrived I snuck in the back door, took ink, quill, and parchment, and snuck to the barn where I composed the following:

My Dearest Abigail,

I know that you have been disappointed in me as of late, and with good reason, but do not doubt my feelings for you. The Day of St. Valentine's came and went without acknowledgement, because I wished to point something out to you, and to all the world: I don't need some potty suck saint to tell me when to love my wife. These tokens, I give you, not because the government says I must, but because you mean the world to me everyday; not just every February 14th and your birthday. Rest assured, these flowers will wither and die long before my love for you will.

Your everloving husband,

Jebediah

I think she bought it.