Who Is She *SHORT STORY*

He sat quietly at the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. He wondered how much longer he could endure her.
"So you're not gonna' tell , huh?" Her eyes were brimming with tears. There was a time that he would take great care to dam the tears that welled in her eyes and now he had grown tired. He let out a slow groan.
"This is bullshit..." He mumbled more to himself than toward her.
This sent her in a rage. She sprang from underneath the sheets, her naked body fully exposed. Her once taut backside was riddled with dimples. Her belly ring sunk into her stomach as if it were a secret jewel. He often forgot she had her navel pierced at all.
"My feelings are BULLSHIT?!" She raged on. The words that followed didn't matter. He wasn't listening. Instead he began to massage his temples in a rhythmic motion, soothing himself into a trance of indifference. "God, she is loud." He thought to himself. The distant memories of her whispering sweet professions of love in his ear made him grin.
"So this is a joke?"
A question.
"I'm a joke!"
A confirmation.
She began to sob. He struggled to make sense of what she was saying but he could only dicipher bits and pieces. He began to get angry. Only moments ago they were making love, now the legs that were wrapped around his waist morphed into hands wrapped around his throat. She was suffocating him.
"I JUST WANT TO GET A DAMNED BEER!"
There. He said it.
She stopped crying. Her face contorted into a grimace. He saw trace of saliva pooling over her now squared bottom lip. Where was the beautiful woman he met all that time ago? Who was this bitter, blubbering shipwreck before him?
"Tell me one thing you bastard, and I'll let you get your stupid beer!" She shouted desparately. "WHO IS SHE?"
By now she pathetically retreated back into the bed on all fours; her dimpled bottom fully revealed. She crawled back under the covers and pulled them up to her chin. She seemed to be sheltering herself from something. Her nose was now runny and red, her hair disheveled from earlier passion. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. He wondered where his beautiful woman had gone.
"Who is she?" She asked again. The urgency of his response was apparent. It seemed as if all rested on his answer.
Once more, he looked at this wild and foreign creature that had taken refuge under his sheets. He stood up slowly and pulled up his pants. He turned to her once more and stared for a moment.
"Answer me." She demanded.
"Not you". He replied.