He heard Betty's shoes clack down the hallway. He put up his hands in defense, in preparation for the certain onslaught to come.
"Janet, I can explain."
"Then...then YOU'D BETTER START EXPLAINING."
"Janet. Please, be quiet. Please. She might hear you."
He'd never seen her like his. Her eyes were wild and full of spite and her lips were a but stern line.
"YOU SAID YOUR WIFE WAS DEAD"
"Janet- please. Listen to me. Please."
"THAT. THAT WAS YOUR WIFE."
"It was, yes, but-"
"DEAD. SHE WAS DEAD."
"She," he covered his face with his hands. Jesus, this was heavy. "She is."
"SO THAT WAS WHAT, SOME BIMBO YOU PICKED UP BETWEEN HER DYING AND ME ARRIVING?"
"No- that is her- I just-"
"So what?," Janet laughed derisively. "She's a zombie?".
"Not quite...listen. Janet. Give me a minute to speak, and I'll explain."
Janet took deep breaths and eyed him like predator, but she was quiet.
"She was dead." He felt like a man finally confessing his sins. "I identified her on the slab. I came to yours off hours- and I came home, and she was there. But she's- she's different. She was dead, dammit, Janet. And now she's here."
"Is this some kind of sick joke you're both in on? If you wanted to break up with me..."
"No, no. Please. It's just hard for me to say. I called Pete..."
"...that lowlife. I feel so much better already."
"...I called Pete, and he confirmed my suspicions. She's cold, Janet. She's cold and she doesn't breathe. Did you see her teeth? Tell me," he started to break down into tears.
"Tell me I'm not going insane, Jan. I need you. I don't know what's going on".
Her eyes watered up too.
"You're...are you saying she's a...?"
"I'm sorry Jan, I should've texted you, told you to stay away. I've been going crazy. It totally slipped my mind and, now I've put you in danger..."
She was starting to crack.
"I thought so too but she's got bite marks! And...and she was dead!"
"...haven't the morgue come looking for her?"
"I said, haven't they come looking for her?"
"God I...no. I didn't even think of that". He sat down, running his hands through his hair.
She sat by him, sympathy on her face.
"Look...Robert. I don't know if you're under a lot of stress lately or anything, but..."
"If you don't believe me," he said weakly, "If you want to leave me, that's fine."
"I...I believe you believe what you're saying. I don't know, something odd is going on. But I think you should get help."
She had to believe him. What if Betty got suspicious, or worse, jealous? He had to look after Janet.
He spoke in a low tone. "Get out. Please. Before she comes back- we say my uncle died, or something. You don't mention that I think she's a vampire, you don't-"
There was a knock on the door.