The Ultimate Deception: My Wife

"Honey, Ryan was just saying how much he loves shellfish. Why don't you mak

. He knew he had a deadly allergy to shellfish

," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Yo

on't be such a worrywart. He'll be

ly. I made a simp

ly" stumbled into me. The pot flew from my hands, and scalding water cascaded down my

ou okay?" Gabrielle shr

yan, who had a few drops of water on his exp

ny red splotch where a splash had landed. I was on the fl

r us. It was for them. They toasted to "the day it a

Gabrielle produced a

said, her ey

l, modern silver rings.

ew photo on Ryan's private social media, posted by Gabrielle. It was a picture of her hand and Ryan's, intertwin

he dining table, a stack of papers and a pen in front of me. Rya

oice all business. "I n

transfer documents. For all my s

ts to him?" I asked, my

venture," she said, as if it were the most reaso

her, my mind

nts' care at that clinic... it's expensive. I control the payments

threat han

u can be our little stay-at-home assistant. Cook, clean, be useful. Or, I can make a call to your