The Couple

The Couple

MICHAEL

“Fuck you!”

“Right back at you, sweetheart,” Michael shoots back, slamming the fridge door shut.

“I’m not going to a dinner with your fucking ex—” Sam screams from the living room.

“Fucking Jesus, woman! She is my cousin’s wife!”

Michael slams the beer down on the counter, popping the lid off and drinking it quickly. His wife is a fucking nightmare.

“Do I give a shit? I’m your wife, and I’m telling you I’m not going. You’ve fucked her, Mick!”

“I was seventeen! You’re a psychopath, you know that, don’t you?”

Sam storms in, her green eyes blazing as she stands in front of Michael with her hands on her hips.

Michael can’t help but admire her as she waves her hands around excessively, shooting her mouth off about some fling he had when he was younger.

He is thirty-four now, for Christ’s sake. His wife is the hottest woman he’s ever seen—yet her temper drives him wild with anger.

“It’s a family dinner for my grandmother’s eightieth birthday. Can you get a fucking grip for one evening?” Michael snaps as Sam gapes at him.

“I’ll get a fucking grip on your throat in a minute, you inconsiderate bastard!”

“Fuck it. I’m going to get ready. Do what you want,” Michael yells, draining his beer before slamming the empty can on the counter.

SAM

Sam is furious. She doesn’t care when her husband fucked Carrie, the fact is he had. Carrie still has a thing for him, and Michael is too blind to see it.

Sam’s anger burns deeper when she hears Michael running the shower, genuinely intent on going with or without her.

“I’ll show that fucker,” she seethes, deciding to pull out all of the stops tonight.

Luckily, she has already showered, so she slides her stockings on, deciding to wear her French lace underwear. She takes her time doing her makeup before slipping on a little black dress.

She is so angry she doesn’t hear Michael come out of the shower nor hear him cross the room to stand beside her.

“Have you finished with your tantrum?”

“Fuck you,” Sam spits as her husband spins her around, facing her in just a towel. His hair is still wet, his body glistening. His eyes gaze at her hungrily as she scoffs.

“Go and wank in the shower over Carrie,” she snaps as she tries to move away.

Michael holds her wrist, pulling her back to the bed and tossing her on it, her eyes wide with surprised indignance.

“What the fuck are you doing? I’m going tonight, and I’m going to make every man in that room want me—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Michael is on top of her now as she wriggles angrily beneath him. He smiles as if in amusement.

“Get off me! You’re a dick!”

He spreads her thighs as she glares at him, then he grabs the back of her hair. His deep-brown eyes gaze into hers as she feels her resolve weaken.