Phonecall Between A Soldier and A Slob

On one end of the phone is Alexandra, pacing the floor from the kitchen to the wood stove and the other, her husband, balancing his weight on a broken chair in Iraq.

"So," he mumbled. "Is there anything you want to tell me? Y'know, anything new?"
"Uh, not really. Just doing my homework all the time and trying to be happy with life," she said holding in a cough. She didn't want him to know she started smoking again in his absence.
"Well, how are you classes? You know, I'm really proud of you for taking them."
"They're fine except for my English teacher, you know for Creative Writing, is so picky. He, like, hates everything I write. He doesn't like description or poems and that's how I write, so it's kinda tough. But my other class is easy as shit. We just watch movies and write about them. Man, you need to get NetFlix," she responded, then held the phone away as she coughed quietly.
"You still smoking?"
"No-o-o, I'm not still smoking," she lied, knowing it was too blatant and said, "Yea, I'm still smoking." She gave a hesitant giggle, expecting it would ease his disappointment.
"Why? I was just talking to my friends about how proud I was that you quit smoking, " he said in disgust.
"Hey, I'm losing weight, I'm taking classes, I quit drinking, ... don't expect me to be perfect. At least not right away, 'cause I'm feelin' really overwhelmed. Besides, I do mean to quit, but my psychiatrist says, 'do one thing at a time.'" She panicked, although she knew the terms of their marriage wasn't based on whether she smoked cigarettes or not.
"Yea, ok Alex. At least you didn't completely lie to me... only partially, right? You'll tell me things you don't want me to know, right?"
Jesus Christ! Not this again. "Duh, didn't I just tell you the truth? Why can't you just trust me?! I have nothing to hide from you!"
There is silence as he continues to analyze what he has heard for some hidden truth I have yet to tell him. The silence turns solemn and this conversation appears to be over.
"Well," John says as he carefully rises from his seat, "I'll call you next week. That should be enough time for you to quit. OK?"
"Yea, I can quit right now. I'll throw my pack of cigarettes in the fireplace. I mean,I actually did think about throwing them out the window, but --"
"No, that's too dramatic. Just smoke the rest and quit. Anyways," he says wanting to rush the good-byes but not obviously, "I'll call you, soon. I love you. By the way, stop pacing."
"I love you too, little boy. I will."