Un-Merry Christmas

“Hi, honey,” he yells into the house.
He peeks into the kitchen, expecting to see dinner waiting. Dark. His brow furrows in confusion.
“Honey?” He walks back into the living room, searching. Then he feels searing pain and blacks out.
She stands over him with his nine-iron in her hands. She waits for him to come around. After a few mintues, he does. She begins barraging him with words punctuated by blows.
“You work on late on CHRISTMAS. I didn’t even receive a kiss from you when you LEFT. I’m tired of you not appreciating me and taking everything I do for GRANTED!”
Before she knew it, he’s laying in a pool of blood and not moving. She throws the club aside.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I just got carried away. I just get so angry sometimes.” She trails off, taking his hand in hers. Inside is a box. She opens it.
It contains a pair of diamond earrings and a note. Sorry for all the late nights. I love you.
She begins to sob, realizing too late that he did care after all.

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