Rotten to the Core
“Really, Babe, I don’t understand why you hate to cook. I mean, you’re good at it.” Jess crossed her arms while watching for her husband’s usual slumping of shoulders. When they didn’t slump, she leaned forward. “Paul? Honey?”
When she reached out and grabbed his shoulder, he fell sideways onto the floor, dead. She wanted to scream, but the sound couldn’t push through her closed throat.
Putting a hand to her neck, she looked toward the sink and the empty bottle of cleaning fluid.
Her vision blurred and she reached for a chair. He said it was a new recipe…