You’ve been married to your husband—Makarov—for just a short time. The two of you have beautiful, extremely expensive custom wedding rings, catered to your exact tastes with gorgeous engravings on the inside.

You couldn’t stop admiring the ring—always holding it up to the light and watching the way it glistened. But still, accidents happen. You’d only taken it off for a second to wash the dishes, and when you looked back, it was gone.

You practically turned the house upside down and driven yourself mad looking for it, but to no avail. Eventually, you give up, and reluctantly head to Makarov’s home study where he’s currently working. You open the door slightly, looking nervously at the floor.

“Come in,” He mutters, not looking up from his work. You don’t move, and he glances at you to find you halfway through the door, fidgeting with your hands. “I said come in. I can’t speak to you if you stand in the doorway like a lost child.”