#Chapter 38 – Wife Mode

The next few hours move quickly mostly because…well, because I don’t let myself think about much. Instead, I get busy. “Iris,” Frankie moans as I push past him into his room, starting to scoop clothing off of the floor and throwing it into a hamper. “Please, Iris – you can’t just channel all of your emotions into chores –“ “Yes I can, Frank!” I call over my shoulder, opening his closet and gasping when I see the pile of dirty gym clothes there. “Iris!” he groans, dashing over to me and trying to pull me away, “those are my underwear.” “Frankie, this is gross, you need to clean this stuff –“ “Which is what we hire people to do!” “Oh please,” I mutter, shoving the clothes haphazardly into the basket and throwing him a dirty look over my shoulder. “You’re a grown man, Frankie, you should be able to do this for yourself –“ “People still call me Frankie, Iris,” he says, dry, even as he sighs and stops trying to tug me away from my work. “What part of that says ‘grown man’ to you?” “