sixwordstories | (no subject)

Jesus Christ, Loretta, how many times do I have to tell you?

You don't 'tell' me anything, Fred. It's a simple question, yet you can't seem to give me an answer.

'None of your business' is not an answer, by the way.

Why the hell do you want to know so badly? I'm sure you've got your secrets from me, don't you?

I gave you a damn answer. I'm working on a little side project, and I don't want anyone seeing it 'till it's done. Can you just fucking accept that and move on?

Oh, here we go. Answering a question with a question. Actually, Fred, I don't have any secrets from you. A marriage is supposed to be built on trust and honesty, not lies.

I just want to know what you're doing in there, that's all. I'm your wife, for God's sake - why can't you just tell me?

[rubs his forehead, muttering darkly] That's bullshit, Loretta, and you know it. Everyone has secrets.

I - told - you what I'm doing. You're just too damn nosy to let it go.

I'm getting fucking sick and tired of it.

Forget it, Fred. I'm not in the mood for this -- not now.