“I can’t help wondering what do you do when you go out with Maureen and the others,” he said, as she came into the bedroom a little unsteady on her stilettos.
“Wouldn’t you like to know!” she taunted, continuing, “What... don’t you trust me or something?”
“Of course I do; I love you.”
“Well isn’t that enough?”
But it wasn’t enough. But it was all that was said except her “I love you too” said automatically, through an alcoholic haze, and his confirmatory “That’s good.”
But it wasn’t good enough. Further questioning was abandoned though as sleep rapidly overtook her.