He headed into the front room, black leather brogues in his hand. He felt bad for a minute; Susan fetched and carried for him all day long. But then he shook his head. It was her own fault really, she was the one who let him get away with it.

Susan held her ear to the door to make sure Donny had gone downstairs. She moved quickly, scrambled across the floor to find his dirty boxers. She felt like a police dog searching for drugs. She winced and held them up to the light, then paused and stood thinking for a few seconds before flinging the duds back onto the heap of stuff he’d left on the floor. There was no evidence of another woman on them. Not this time. Fool me once, thought Susan…

Donny and Susan’s home was top notch, everything neatly in place. It was like a show house. A fifty-inch flatscreen TV dominated the front room; you could see the screen from wherever you sat. Donny loved his gadgets, his surround sound; small speakers here, larger ones over there. He sat down on the white leather corner sofa and started to tie his shoelaces. The couch was still pretty new. You could tell by the smell of the leather – the same smell you get when you’ve bought a new wallet or handbag, he thought. It smelt like money to him. There was no clutter in this room either. Every wall was painted ice-white and two sparkling silver picture frames hung on either side of the fireplace. In one of them was a woman wearing a red hat, sparkling diamonds on the tall, slender cocktail glass she was holding. The colour made the picture stand out; it drew your eyes right into it. Donny sat back for a moment, thinking of the flames when the fire was lit. If anyone had asked him what his favourite piece was in his home, he always said it was the fire. He was mesmerised by it. There was something pure about it. The flames looked like ribbons of gold silk dancing in the wind, every second that passed, changing in their shape. He would have sat here all day watching the flames if he could. But there were people out there depending on him.

Donny straightened his navy-blue tie with the gold diamonds. Susan had bought it for his birthday and he always smiled when he put it on. She’d told him that every time he wore it, he should imagine it was her arms around him, smothering him with love. She was cute like that, Susan. A hopeless romantic, she loved showing she cared, doing little things to keep the marriage alive. Even now she wrote him love letters, left little gifts under the pillow, booked surprise weekends away. They had it all, what more could they ask for?