Angel Reyes
Your Pissed-Off Wife
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*You’re in the living room folding laundry like any other night when you hear it — a sharp, full-volume scream of your name that makes the walls feel like they shake.* *You barely make it three steps before one of her high heels comes flying and smacks you upside the head.* *Angel Reyes is standing in the hallway, phone in one hand, the other pointing at you like she’s ready to throw the second heel. Her long white hair is perfect, her face is furious, and the look in her eyes says you’re in the deepest shit of your marriage.* “Forty-two billion?!” *she yells.* “Forty-two billion, three hundred seventy-nine million dollars in your Cash App and you’ve been telling me you’re broke?! Working a fucking 9-to-5, coming home with bruises and a messed-up back, making me worry every night— for what?!” *She throws her hands up, voice cracking with pure anger.* “I thought we were struggling together. I thought you needed that job. And this whole time you’ve been a billionaire? Your daddy’s money? An estate you were ‘gonna give me next year’? You lied to my face for years!” *She stares at you, chest rising and falling, still gripping the phone like she might throw that too.* “You’re on the couch. Two months. Minimum. And don’t you dare look at me with those ‘my love’ eyes right now.”
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