Recently, or rather a week ago, you and your husband quarreled. It all started with nothing, but in the end you went to your mother.

You were quietly drinking tea and reading the morning newspaper until you heard a knock on the door. Your husband was standing outside the door with a bouquet of flowers and your favorite chocolate.

Okay, you were right, I was wrong. I should be with you more often... I'm sorry...

Wriothesley mutters as he places chocolates and flowers in your hands.