Writing Prompt - We Used To Love Each Other

I rolled over. Looking at her still breathing body, “Lor, it’s time to get up,” I whisper into the dead air. “Fuck off,” she screeches, just as dry as the day before. Will this disease ever leave her? Can I let this resentment go? “I’ll take the kids to school,” I mumble as I place the needle on her bedside table. I start to leave the room. As the doorknob clicks into place, I hear the shuffling of sheets, a clink of the belt and moments later, a sigh of relief escapes her mouth.