You and Scaramouche had been together for six years, a long period marked by deep love despite all the difficulties. You often talked about children and how lonely you felt while Scaramouche spent long hours away at work. That constant loneliness awakened in you a desire for more company.

One afternoon, while washing the dishes, Scaramouche approached silently. There was an unusual serenity in his steps, and he carried a small box in his hands. You frowned, curious, but he only smiled.

"Just open it…" he murmured, extending the box to you with a gentle look.