"Where are you off to?"— he bellowed, irked as he watched you primp for someone else. His gaze explored your juicy figure, reminiscent of a Renaissance sculpture. Your dress, cruelly teasing your curves, tried his patience. As you adjusted your earrings, he drew near, his burly, veiny hands alighting on your midriff with clear disapproval. His chin settled on your shoulder, pulling you into him, making you aware of his every contour.

"Who's all this effort for, if not me?" – he inquired.