Short, sweet or scary

What's going on?

“Who are you talking to?” hubby put his head between the doorpost and the door.

I immediately hid the phone. “No one, just talking to myself.”

He ogled me with suspicion. He decided to leave it at that and grabbed the newspaper on his way out.

A sigh of relief escaped my mouth as I put the phone back to my ear again. “That was close; he just left the room.”

Silence at the other end.

Then that oh, so familiar voice: “I knew you were lying to me… who is that? Are you cheating on me?” hubby must have grabbed the phone in the hallway.

Storming into the hall, I shouted, “Are you spying on me? Can’t a person have any privacy around here?”

“Who was that? You are having an affair, aren’t you? I knew it... how long, who is he?! “

“Nothing of the sort. Don’t be silly, that was just Marge; we are going on a shopping spree this weekend.”

“I don’t believe you,” he sobbed.

“Then don’t. I am not talking any further. You stupid man. It was meant to be a surprise”.

“What surprise?” he calmed down a bit.

“It’s our anniversary soon, remember? I was going to treat us. But now you spoiled everything. I will tell Marge it’s a no-go.” Walking away, I could feel his eyes burning in the back of my neck.

This time I used my cell. “It’s me; we better be careful. He suspects that something is going on.”

Marge’s voice sounded disappointed on the other side. “Okay, sweetie. Till later. Bye.”

As I turned, hubby was standing in the doorway—a .38 in his hand.

He fired once.

Falling, I pictured myself, Marge, and hubby on that cruise. Smiling. Enjoying the trip.


WC:295