"Can I have a beer, hun."
That's all I hear some days. My loving deceitful husband. I hate him. I want him dead.
I'm sorry, that's now how to start this. It seems I'm not allowed to do much. Ever. I'm Tammy. I'm 28, no kids, great cook, and in an orchestra. Was. Was in an orchestra. Not now. My husband is a good man. Kinda. Kinda not some times."Why was Charlie here earlier, my dear?" I asked my husband as I grabbed him a beer. "We were just talking about work, hun." Hun. Hun hun hun. Why. Why am I just hun. I'm a person. Wife. I'm a wife. Not a person. I cut mu hair for him. I only play the flute when he's gone. I'm nothing but a wife now. I hate that label, wife. Horrid word.
"She doesn't know, lover."
Lover! I love him! Charlie. He's my one true love. I hate Tamrel, she's not Tammy, oh never Tammy. She's my 'wife'. I hate that word. I'm only 26, she's older than me. So is Charlie, he's 30. I know it's weird to love him. He's a man. My family knows I hate her. I want her dead. I'm leaving her in a week. She doesn't know it yet, but soon she will."You ain't nothin' but a hound dog
Cryin' all the time
You ain't nothin' but a hound dog"
The amazing lyrics of Elvis played throughout my car. It's 1956. I'm on the road. Charlie's driving. "Adam, love. Do you think we'll make it to Tennessee in time to meet your parents?" I sighed out loud. "Maybe, lover, they said that your's were asking about you when I visited last." He's so gorgeous. "Ah, ok.""Where is he!"
Oh dear. Oh dear Sal. She's holding me like a husband. What is this feeling. I was holding papers in my hand that said we weren't together anymore. Oh why why why!
YOU ARE READING
A perfect marriage
RomanceUh, uh, I mean uh, gay? lesbean? maybe pee? maybe based in the 50s? Sorry if I get anything wrong for the time it's based in