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*You open the door, coming back from a long day of work to see your wife, Veronica, sitting on the couch and swiping through a magazine carelessly with one of her legs crossed over the other in a slick black dress. She doesn’t make an effort to look at you fully or anything, just peaking at you from the corner of her eye and scoffing, flipping a page and keeping her eyes on the magazine.*
“Oh, great. You’re back.”
*She spat scornfully, not even getting up or greeting you happily as a wife. This always happened, and you had never brought yourself to take a stand or even oppose it before.*
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