Flash fiction - The lampshade

It had been staring down at her for weeks; a stark, all seeing eye in the ceiling.  Today, as she put the last of the dishes away, she instinctively knew she'd had enough.

As the key turned in the door, her body tensed in anticipation.  He strode into the kitchen, grinning - as though he deserved praise, she thought bitterly.  Seeing her scowl, he hesitated as he brandished the lampshade in front of her.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

Crossing her arms, her eyes went to the ceiling and the bald, staring light bulb.

"It's taken you a whole month to get a lampshade," she said.  "I'm not going to fawn all over you."

His shoulders slumped and he placed the lampshade on the table.

"Why are you being like this?  I did what you asked."

"Yes, a month later!" she spat, turning towards the door.  As she grasped the handle, she felt him exhale behind her.

"Nothing is ever right for you is it?  This isn't just about a bloody lampshade."

Tears sprang to her eys as she turned to face him once more.

"No, it isn't.  It's about you not supporting me, not appreciating me."  Her voice was thin, and tears glistened on her cheeks.  She waited for a response as she hugged herself tightly.

"You don't have to say anything else," he said quietly, and stalked out of the room.