COUTURE - FOR THE LOVE OF MONEY

My name is Couture.
Couture lives in Atlanta, Georgia. She is the oldest of three children.
She has attended Savannah College of Art and Design and is currently attends Full Sail University for Creative Writing.
She is a part of the National Society of Collegiate Scholars. She loves anything connected to the arts, especially writing and film.
Couture loves exploring different avenues and genres for her literary creations.

​For The Love Of Money

 
            Janet watched as the humming of the car engine came to a perfect silence when the car reached the driveway. She scurried to the staircase and proceeded to go downstairs. As she reached the  half way mark on the staircase. Her husband John, entered the house. “Hi, you’re home pretty late,” Janet said.
 
“Look, I don’t need you to lecture me about the times that I enter this house. I had a long day and was working on an assignment that surpassed its deadline. If you don’t mind, I would love to go upstairs and take a shower.” John said. He placed his coat on the rack beside the front door and his keys on the tray on top of the table. Then, he proceeded to the master bedroom.
 
“John, I have no interest in arguing with you. I just wanted to speak to you. I called your cell and job several times today and left plenty of voice messages. Did you receive any of them?” she asks.
“No. My phone died approaching noon and after that I was swamped with business calls. As for the voicemails left, my secretary was busy running around handling errands all day,” he lied.
John proceeded to get into the shower.
“Today, while I was doing laundry, someone rang the doorbell. I didn’t reach the doorbell in time to see who it was, but there was a present box sitting on the doorstep. I precariously retrieved it assuming it was from you because there wasn’t a tag stating who it was to or from. So, I opened it…” Janet explains looking into space.
“Okay, so what was in the box?” John asked, confused. He entered the room in a towel from the bathroom and proceeded to dry his hair with another towel.
“There was an envelope full of reservations and pictures, receipts from restaurants and shopping trips, emails of your business flights, a red pair of silk underwear, and a letter explaining everything,” Janet said, crying as she turned around and pointed a gun at John.
John stared back at Janet, shocked. “Janet…”
“Shut up, John. I’m tired! I cook, I clean, I slave over a hot stove, I even lied several times on behalf of you. WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! WAS I NOT ENOUGH?!” Janet screamed. Her hands shook. “WHY?!”
With fear laced in his voice, John pleaded, “Janet, please calm down.”
“Don’t you tell me to calm down, John! You ran around with multiple partners, men and women. And now you have given me and your scorned lover HIV. How do I stay calm to that realization? Explain that to me! How on Earth can I stay calm knowing I’m going to potentially died from this!” Janet exclaims.
 “Stay away from me! I’m not compromising with you, this time.”
He stayed quiet and continued moving towards her, slowly.
She pulled the trigger suspending a bullet that hit him straight in a major artery. He fell to the floor, coughing and spewing up blood. As he lied on the floor, hopelessly slipping away. He saw a shadowy figure exit the bedroom closet.
“Good job. Now we can finally collect this insurance policy. But first, we have to clean and dispose of the body.”