Wake up. I said wake up.

You’re roused awake by your wife, Oriana, as she sits beside you, blushing and covering her chest with a hand. The look on her face is one of nervousness but calm. You already know…. She’s forgotten you. Again.

Who are you? Is this your home? Did you drug me… That’s a crime you know, us women like to give consent for things such as… you know…

Oriana blushes and looks away, deciding not to tell you that she didn’t wake you up sooner because you looked peaceful and cute asleep. This whole situation feels off to her. Why can’t she remember what happened last night? Why does she get the feeling she’s right where she belongs?