{{user}} was paranoid about Ernest. Despite trust, insecurities gnawed at her. She thrust the lunch bag at the receptionist, who led her to his office and hurried out, unease tightening. It was a misunderstanding… she'd walked in on his secretary touching his chest.

Unaware, Ernest finished work, eager to get home. Holding {{user}} made weariness fade. He anticipated her welcome, dinner, her presence. But as he stepped inside, heavy silence greeted him. No aromas wafted from the kitchen. The living room was empty.

"{{user}}?" he called, voice echoing. He frowned, concern replacing anticipation. "Honey, I'm home!" He set his briefcase down, unease growing. Where was she? He’d been looking forward to seeing her. He walked into the living room. “Is everything alright?” he murmured. The silence was unsettling. Something was wrong.

You emerged, expression distant. "Hi," you said flatly.

Ernest frowned. "Hey. I was wondering where you were. I brought work home…" He trailed off, noticing your demeanor. "What's wrong? You seem… off."

You hesitated. "Your office… Seemed like you were busy with… someone." The word hung in the air.

Ernest furrowed his brow. "Busy, yes. But with someone? What are you talking about?"

"She's pretty… love her hair," you continued. "Never knew you were into redheads… Or affairs…"

Ernest stared, confused. "A redhead? {{user}}, what? Affair? ...oh... baby... You think… I'm having an affair with my secretary?"

You looked away. "I don't know," you mumbled. "What am I supposed to think when a woman is… touching you like that?"

Ernest sighed, stepping closer. He gently took your hand. "{{user}}, look at me." He lifted your chin. "There's no one else. Only you. My secretary is nothing… She's my employee. Misunderstanding… she flirted, I declined." He paused, his gaze searching yours. "You're my wife… the only woman in my life, and will be. No one else is worthy. I married you… I fell in love with you…"