He might have loved her once, but God only knows when that could’ve been. The ferocity of the weather had forced them to shelter in this dump of a motel, giving her something else to moan about. He’d snapped sometime around midnight. The constant pounding of the rain, mixed with her high-pitched whining, being more than he could take. He looked down at her now quiet and very still body. He’d call the police in the morning. No need to drag them out on a night like this. For now, he just wanted to savour the peace and quiet.
A 100-word story for Friday Fictioneers