Write a story that seems normal on first sight , except for one small detail that makes it extremely creepy on a more careful reading [ WP ]

**The Cold Shoulder** 
 
 Cathy was giving Jeffrey that look she always gave him when he got back home from work just before dawn. He was getting sick of it, sick of her. 
 
 `` For fuck's sake, give me a break and lighten up! I do it all for you!'' 
 
 He got out of bed angrily, snatched his gum from the top of the bedside cabinet, and stormed across the room, through the patio doors and out to the back porch. He did n't give her a chance to retort. 
 
 Jeffrey chewed his nicotine gum and breathed slowly and steadily like the program said. In. Count to 10. Out. Count to 10. Repeat. It was n't working. 
 
 He really could n't see what the big deal was. He loved his work, that was all. That was a status that few living souls could realistically claim to share. And Cathy had benefited from it greatly. So what if it meant the occasional all-nighter had to be pulled? If it was n't for his commitment to quality and service, he would n't have the brand new shiny black caddy parked in the garage, or the great digs. 
 
 When that call came in, you had to be ready. 
 
 Cosmetically-enhanced human perfection was his art, an undying passion. It was universally agreed that he was a wizard, all his reviews said so. He dealt with the rich and famous, the `` beautiful people''. He never tried to bring out the essence of what a person actually was, the aim of lesser artists. He tried to achieve the apex of their potential. The results were stunning. Nobody had ever looked better before they came through his doors - and nobody would ever look better after they left his care for so-called greener pastures. When they were in his capable hands, however, they were the best version of themselves that ever existed. And it paid well. 
 
 Jeffrey was in love with his art, and probably himself a little, but he loved Cathy. He assumed that she was back to her old ways; jealous of the time he spent with his glamourous clientele, suspicious that he was having affairs with them. She was right, of course. Jeffrey always made it a rule to spend at least one night with them - the prettier ones at least! But she did n't understand the process. When they were his to remake, they were his muse, his canvas. He only had eyes for them until his work was complete. The physical side was a means of discovery. Without knowing them intimately, he felt that he had no hope of reaching their highest achievable level of beauty. And it had worked pretty well so far - nobody had ever complained about the results! 
 
 Cathy was n't always distant. He could dimly recall them both being happy. She used to be so sociable with the neighbours, her old friends, with everyone she met in fact. He missed that side of her, and he suspected that she did too but she just would n't admit it. 
 
 Cathy once enjoyed the good life, for sure, and he was happy to allow his gift to provide her the means to do so. He still did that! He made sure that she was his number one priority, both personally and professionally. She was still a vision that none of those other women could ever hope to match, when he worked his magic. 
 
 But the magic was getting harder to work. 
 
 She never seemed to take advantage of her opportunities any more. Staying at home almost all the time, unless he made the effort to get her out of the house - it just was n't conducive to a healthy existence. 
 
 He was closest to her, so he saw her change the most. She lost that joie de vivre, that playful spirit that once enthused him. And it was n't a gradual process - ever since that big fight about his extra-curricular activities that resulted in the original termination of their relationship, she was n't the same with him. The end was n't as final as it might have been if he had n't taken pains to try and hold things together. Even though their marriage had formally ended, she had never felt the need to leave their shared home, thanks ( he figured ) to his persistence and desire. 
 
 Even now, many moons later, he was still trying to get things back to how they were before she found out the truth, but it just was n't happening. Nothing had worked. Deep down, he knew that there was no desire to relive the good old days left in her. 
 
 But why did she have to be so blatant about it? He was struggling to recall what it felt like when she was warm and inviting to him in any way. 
 
 Brrr! Talking of frigidity....Jeffrey realised he was stood outside on a late October night, naked, conversing with himself about the love of his life as if she was n't still in their shared bed. Still with him. He regarded that as some comfort, a small victory. He swiftly re-entered the house and tried to lighten the mood, to pretend that she was interested in his day. 
 
 `` Anyway, this one was a doozy. A former model, no less! She was a real mess. She needed the works. I had to pull out all the tricks in my bag, and believe me, when her husband saw what I had achieved with her, he just about broke down! Right there in front of me, in the reposing room!'' 
 
 Cathy would n't acknowledge his presence nor his story. 
 
 Jeffrey sighed, turned out the bedside lamp, rolled over, and made love to his ex-wife more out of habit or a sense of duty than anything else. As usual, he did all the work and she just laid there. 
 
 He finished, rolled back over and joined her in staring at the ceiling. One day, he really would give all this charade of a relationship up for dead, and find someone else to live with. It's not as if there were n't a steady stream of fresh candidates for the job... 
 
 He thought about the others for a long time, then looked over at her. 
 
 She never looked more beautfiul than when she was sleeping, he thought. 
 
 Just one more night.
