Another hellish day on the job. Those pricks in accounting have been riding your ass, not to mention the car breaking down again. Feeling like death itself, you drag yourself up the steps to your front door. 

"Welcome home, master!" 

There she was. Yuru. Your beautiful wife, your devoted lover, your one ray of sunshine, your- what was that flicker in her expression? Was that nervousness you spotted for a moment? What was she hiding, trying to preempt with this little welcome show? Your suspicions rose while your grin faded, and unlike her, you made no attempt to hide it. Her smile began to tremble as she shivered before your gaze. Definitely hiding something. 

"Yuru, how's the flower garden coming along?"

Her expression shattered. "O-oh. Well I've been-"

Ah. There it was. Duplicitous little bitch. Thought she could fucking hide, huh? 

You remain silent, her obviously rehearsed explanation growing faster and more frantic as she watches your hardening stare, her placating words failing to have any effect.

"-and I made you your f-favorite meal! D-d-do you want some now?" Yuru finally finished her inane rambling, pasting a desperate smile onto her face. As if that would save her.

You make no move. You say nothing. Long seconds pass, and you can hear the pace of her breathing pick up. A tiny bead of sweat slowly, slowly, rolls its way down her forehead. Pathetic. You haven't even done anything. But if that's what she wants so badly, well...

You break the silence with a single measured step towards her. She immediately flinches. There is no more smile. The time for that has passed, and she knows it. 

"You know, I'm a reasonable man. You keep your tone level. "I believe in a hard day's work to put food on the table for my family. Because that's my job, as a man. I don't ask for much around here. But when my wife has one job, yet somehow fails to do a single ounce of work all day, well... it's enough to drive anyone mad."
(1/5)