The Rich Man's Wife Page #2

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You're not the only one paying rent

Before I get burned

you need to understand

There'll be some pain

Some shame

- What's wrong?

- That was a mistake.

It went too far. Dinner's my limit,

just like I said.

You want

to tell me why?

I think I've told you

several times now.

Would you like

something else?

Uh, you...

No.

You know, really, you're

better off anyway. I'm pretty messed up.

My father used to say, when a woman

doesn't want to make love to you,

they usually tell you the story

of their life, so why don't you?

- I'll pass.

- No, I mean it.

Tell me, you know.

How long

you been married?

Seven years.

Is he rich?

Yeah.

How'd I guess?

He must've met you

when you were a baby.

Actually, I was 17.

- Hmm.

- A runaway, high school dropout.

I was lonely,

scared, dead broke.

- Out there on the edge, you know?

- Yeah.

I got a job in a grocery store,

working as a cashier.

Men were always coming in,

trying to pick me up, and I guess...

I didn't have a very high

opinion of myself.

- You know what I'm saying?

- Little bit.

So one night

Tony came in, and...

to me he looked like a god

in a thousand-dollar suit.

Sweet.

And on our frst date,

he asked me to marry him. I said yes.

Uh-huh, a regular f***ing fairy tale.

The prince loved you, and,

well, you loved his money.

No, really, that's not what happened.

I loved Tony...

and I still do...

love my husband.

You know, for some reason,

I think you're bullshitting me.

Okay? Why don't you

just tell me the truth?

Y- You used him, and

now you're sick of him.

Why be so greedy?

Why don't you just, uh, divorce

his ass and collect half the money?

No, I can't do that.

I signed this paper...

that said if I leave him,

I get nothing.

See? He's

a real smart guy.

You know, excuse me

for saying so,

but he didn't even trust you

when he married you.

If someone made me

sign a piece of paper,

that would piss me off.

And I would really,

really hate them for that.

You gotta hate him.

You gotta really, really

hate him, don't you?

You do hate him, don't you?

Sometimes I do.

Sometimes... I wish he...

Sometimes, what?

I wish he were dead.

Look, let's say

you could have that, okay?

Let's say Tony

was out in the car one day,

goes off to work and

he just never comes home.

And there you are, poor

littleJosie, the widow.

A certain period of time goes by.

Nobody blames you...

because you're young,

you're beautiful.

Tony was a schmuck

to begin with.

You get the house,

you get the cash.

I mean, baby,

you have it all.

Perfect solution.

I'll do it.

Do what?

I'll kill him.

Kill Tony?

Oh, no!

No! No!

You're joking, right?

What if I was serious?

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