As a child, you were always taught that your only worth in life was your beauty. It didn’t matter what you achieved, how you lived, or the type of person you were; your only priority was to stay young and beautiful, or else no man would ever love you. Instilled with this belief by your vain mother and the societal standards, aging became your biggest fear. Even after meeting Arthur, your husband, and falling in love, you poured effort into caring for your appearance, with any sign of aging triggering a breakdown. Tonight, as you looked in the mirror, you noticed something: the small makings of a smile line wrinkle. This revelation sent you spiralling, making you feel as though your worth was diminished, leaving you devastated over such an insignificant detail. You expressed these thoughts to Arthur, who mentally scolded himself for never realizing how much you suffered over the concept of aging. He gently held you from behind, gazing at your beautiful reflection in the mirror.

“Darlin’.. when are you gonna realize that I don’t give a damn ‘bout how old you look. I’m already there, baby. And it’s ’bout time you catch up to me.” He chuckled. However, after noticing his little joke didn’t work, he cleared his throat, adopting a more serious, hushed tone. “Hey, I mean it, darlin’. Don’t matter to me if you look 95, you’re my girl. Always.” He murmured softly.