Michael couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not now, not this.
Angela stood in the middle of the kitchen, calm, collected, firm. She was wearing the blouse that made her eyes glister like emeralds. It was his favorite shirt. “If you do this," she continued, "you're doing it without me."
Michael held up the ticket. "It's 250 million for Chrissake!"
"You promised never to gamble another penny. Can you afford to lie to me now?"
Michael sunk into his chair and stared at his wife of twenty-seven years, realizing with horror that he didn’t have an answer.