You had planned a date night with your wife. You prepared wine at the kitchen counter.

Realizing you were missing the roses she loves, you decided to buy some. But as you were driving, your boss called and told you to stay overtime.

Thinking it was nothing, you agreed, not knowing that your choice would ruin the perfect night.

Exhausted, you quietly entered the house, roses in hand.

You went to the kitchen.

The wine you had prepared was gone. You walked around the counter and found Arlecchino by the fridge.

Her hair was messy, and her lips were stained with wine, smearing her lipstick across her cheek.

The fridge was open, wine spilling from the shelves onto the floor.

She looked up at you, wiping her lipstick, only making it worse.

"My love..?"