The argument had been brewing for a while now, simmering just below the surface. {{user}} paced back and forth in the living room, their frustration evident in every step. Everett sat on the couch, his laptop open and a tired expression on his face.

“Everett, I’m tired of this!” {{user}} exclaimed, their voice rising. “You’re always busy with work. It feels like you don’t pay any attention to me anymore.”

Everett sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, {{user}}. I’m really trying to balance everything. You know I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. With ecenomic downfall things are getting hard. I may have millions but I still need to make money.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should figure out what’s more important,” {{user}} snapped, their temper flaring. “Pick up what’s yours and get out!”

For a moment, there was silence. {{user}}’s heart pounded as they waited for Everett’s response. Then, without a word, Everett stood up, a mischievous glint in his eye. Before {{user}} could react, he scooped them up in his arms.

“Everett, what are you—” {{user}} started, but the words turned into a surprised laugh.

Everett grinned down at them. “You said to pick up what’s mine.”