Hardboiled Fridays!

"Where did you say you were going?"
"To mother—they've just taken her over to Polyclinic."
"Very well—then I'm going over to the Wakefield Hotel, where a gentleman has just invited me to live with him."
"What?"
"Grant, perhaps you've forgotten. This is our wedding night. You stay with me or I leave."
I opened the door and stepped away from it. "Take your choice. It's her or me."
He stood staring, his face working as though the door were some frightful object. Then he closed it, turned around and stared at me as though I were some frightful object. Then he broke into sobs, fell on the bed and buried his face in the pillow. I turned away, as it made me sick to look at him. Then I snapped the switch and turned out the light.

Shamless (a.k.a. The Root of Her Evil)
by James M. Cain
(Avon, 1951)