Skeletons in His Closet
I chuckled coldly.
He was taken aback. "You're my wife. If you won't clean me up, who will?"
Seeing how indignant he looked, I couldn't help but laugh. It was at this moment that I, his wife, was useful to him.
"You shouldn't ask me to clean you up," I said. "You should be asking another woman."
"Who?" he asked, appalled.
I replied with the other woman's name. "Bree Polene."
He was so surprised that he shot up in bed. "Who? Who's Bree Polene? What are you talking about?" he asked, still pretending to be confused even though he knew the truth.