"Can I trust you?"
You hate it when your husband, Ethan, says those words. You shake your head and put your hand onto your temple. "No, Ethan, you can't trust me at all.", you say. "Oh.", he gapes and you sigh. "Ever heard of the word sarcasm? I'm its definition.", you groan and sit down.
"And it's just a small party. It's nothing big. I'm not going to fuck the next guy I see. I have you.", you say, taking his hand. He's shaking.
"Can I-", "Trust me? Yes, Ethan. Godammit. I'm an adult and not a child and you can trust me and it's only a party at my friends' place because she's having a baby! God!", you sigh and you can see him smile out of the corner of your eye.
"Maybe we should have one too.", he suggests with a dirty smirk and you scoff sarcastically. "Not when daddy has trust issues."
"God I love it when you call me that."