Her leg brushed up against mine, sending shivers down my spine. My arm jumped. She glanced at it, then back at me, a questioning look on her face.
“Nervous tic,” I said, grinning helplessly. She laughed.
Six years later, we’re married. It’s a good marriage. We’re both happy. At least, I thought we were both happy. Then, I walked in on her fucking him. That won’t do at all.
I grab a knife out of the kitchen drawer and head to the bedroom. As I bring the knife down, blood sprays around and their screams are delicious. She looks at me, her eyes wide. I can see the look within them–questioning, searching… wondering if this breath is her last. “Why?” She squeaks.
“Nervous tic,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. I bring the knife down one final time.