Betty wiped her forehead to keep the sweat and the rogue piece of limp, gray hair out of her eyes. She'd been dusting, vacuuming, and doing laundry all morning, and the physical strain was starting to wear on her 60 year-old body. Still, she moved with a grim purpose, her work nearly complete. She was not a woman to sing while she worked, not even hum. There was nothing enjoyable here, so why try to pretend? She lifted the figurine from the dresser to dust it and paused just a moment. Studying the sleek, black intertwined figures, she frowned. It reminded her of that biblical passage, about marriage, about "cleaving unto each other" and "becoming one flesh." If that was so, then what happened when people divorced, she wondered. She replaced the dusted figurine and surveyed the room. Done. Betty exhaled a small sigh, sat down on the bed, and closed her eyes. And then it came. The voice from the other room. "Where's my lunch, woman? I'm hungry, goddammit, and if I have to wait for your sorry ass to get moving much longer, you're gonna regret it!" Betty startled slightly, then rose from the bed. She tucked the rogue hair back behind her ear again and quietly walked back over to the dresser where she quickly withdrew a twenty dollar bill from her husband's wallet. As she feigned straightening the bedsheets one last time, she pressed the bill under her side of the mattress where it joined the others.
