My Wife Switched My Electrolyte Drink To Urine

My wife, Amy Garner, snatched the satellite phone out of my hand and tried to make another call to cancel the rescue request and stop them from filing a report.

However, when she found out it required my iris scan, she roughly pried at my eyelids.

“Roy, was that really necessary? It’s just a bottle of water! You’d call in a rescue team and cry robbery over that? If this delays the rare resource survey, can you take responsibility for that?”

Summoning what little strength I had left, I clamped down hard on Amy’s wrist and kept my eyes tightly shut.

Waves of dizziness from dehydration crashed over me. My stomach was burning as if it were on fire. Every breath was like a blade cutting down my throat.

I tried to ease my thirst by licking the blood beading on my cracked lips, but it was no use.

I had just wasted even more of my strength because of Amy. I did not know how much longer I could hold on.

Ben Murphy took a long gulp of the electrolyte water. He squinted his eyes in pleasure and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Sorry, Roy. Amy only meant well. I was severely dehydrated. What if I died out here in the desert?”

Then, he poured more water out and splashed it over his face, his hands, and even the back of his neck.

“The electrolyte water is really very hydrating! Lucky you brought some, Roy, or I wouldn’t have had any to drink.”

My fingers dug hard into the seat. I wanted nothing more than to skin Ben alive at that moment.

I had prepared that water specifically for emergencies. Before we set out, I had suggested we bring extra, but Ben had protested. He brushed it off as pseudoscience and claimed regular water worked just as well.

So, I had been the only one to pack electrolyte water.

But when I needed it the most to stay alive, he was wasting it on purpose.

Amy turned toward Ben in concern. She pressed her hand to his forehead and to his neck.

“You don’t need to apologize. You’ve been kind enough. You even left him other water supplies. If he refuses to drink them, that’s on him!”

She tossed the bottle of urine at me.

“Come on, Roy. Stop pretending to be so weak! You think I don’t know about your years of special forces training? You’re not as fragile as you’re pretending to be. If you were really dehydrated, you’d be gulping down anything with moisture in it, even if it’s as disgusting as urine. Ben isn’t as strong as you. Of course, I’m taking better care of him. Why are you picking on him?”

Ben handing me his urine was not kindness. It was pure humiliation!

My throat burned so badly that I could not waste another word on either of them.