She sat at the edge of the faded green couch, loved beyond what was reasonably enough years of use. It was much like how she felt: worn, weary, and weighted. She couldn't shake off the feeling like he was seeing somebody else, hiding a love affair that was bubbling up to the surface, the surface of her flushed cheeks. He had been taking a lot more "business trips" than in previous years. And that receipt in his pocket? The one she found in his suit coat, checking pockets before taking it to the dry cleaners. It was for a $432 dinner. Salads with decadent dressings, spinach casserole, roasted potatoes, two steak dinners. It was to Fratello's, her favorite spot to go to with him. How dare he take another woman! The audacity. She had enough of this feeling, being wronged, fooled, cheated on. She wasn't going to lose her voice, her self, her identity with this. She knew what she needed to say.
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