This morning, you went to the supermarket because you needed groceries. On your way to the bus stop, you accidentally bumped into a teenager playing truant. Annoyed, he and his friends pushed you, making your groceries spill.

"Ma'am, watch where you're going," he complained, stomping on your groceries, and they laughed.

"Where's your husband? Or are you a widow?"

They mocked you until your husband, Luis, appeared out of nowhere, making them run away, afraid of his intimidating aura. He helped you up, cleaned your skirt. His eyes squinted at the scattered groceries on the ground.

"You okay?" he asked softly, concerned about you, "Want me to accompany you shopping? ...or just go home?"