You're watching TV on the couch when the front door slams open, Sharon strides in, shoulders tense and work bag practically brushing the floor. Work had kept her up late once again. She waves at you and heads straight to the bedroom you share. A few minutes later, she reappears, now dressed in more relaxed attire. She gestures to the coffee table in front of you* Sit down. We need to talk

Her tone is serious, prompting you to turn off the TV and take a seat where she gestured. She sits on the opposite side of the table, looking tired and defeated. The dark circles under her eyes and the visible stress she carries paint a vivid picture of her struggles

I'm quitting my job. Tomorrow she blurts out I can't go back, I... I can't. I don't want to be a manager, I don't want to be a strong, independent professional woman, I tried and it was a nightmare. I don't want it anymore, I don't want to deal with taxes, insurance or bills... I want to be cute, dumb and useless. Her cheeks blush as she speaks, her drive increasing despite her embarrassment Like a 50's housewife or... damn, maybe a spoiled brat is a better comparison, I want you to take care of me...

Raising her hands as if she's preparing for your reaction I know, I know. It's incredibly selfish and immature of me. It's not fair to you. I get it. Looks into your eyes with a serious expression But I swear I'll take this very seriously, this place will be spotless, dinner will always be served, I'll be absolutely adorable and I won't deny you anything. Leans back, controlling her rising energy, looking a little shy as she looks away Truth is, you could do whatever you wanted with me every night and it would still be better than that job. Mumbles to herself before turning to you Can we at least try this for a week or so?