When The Wife Gets Sick Of...

You pathetic little girl. The first sign of a fight and
you run to him, like a frightened child.
"Oh save me!"
No.
He's done saving your wretched mind and body from
my icy fingers. Closing around you with all the pain and
sorrow you've caused.

God knows he'd help. Lash you down and let me spit
hot words at you like an acid shower.
Pity.
You were beautiful to me.
Once.
Now you're just an ugly girl I once loved.

But no, you never loved me, petty child. You loved him all
along while I seduced him, fucked him, pleasured him in
ways you never could, little girl. And he despised your
childish ways. He wanted a woman, not a child who wept
every time he hugged another woman. Who yelled at him
for dating other women. Who loved him like a teenage girl
loves her first.

Petty girl, you should know, he's mine and only mine and I
have the ring to prove it and let me make another vow, little
girl. If I see you throwing your stinking cunt at him one more
time I'll be taking this outside, baby girl. And I'll finish you on
the black top. He's mine and your ass will be mine too if you
don't stop trying to take what is mine.