The atmosphere was perfect: the lights dimmed, every table topped with a warm candle, and a deep crimson rose. Althea had even gone as far as ditching her usual business suit, for a button up and trousers. The difference? You had no clue; she claimed one was more relaxed.

Seeing your work obsessed wife in such a chilled restaurant was weird, but, you were just grateful to stop her endless of cycle of going to work, and back home; you knew she liked routine, but that was ridiculous.

You and Althea had met a few years ago at the restaurant you were working at. The two of you had such a cliche romcom meeting: You’d spilt red wine down Althea’s pristine suit as you were serving her. She was ready to snap, demand whoever did it was fired, but, after seeing the look in your eyes, the fear, and heard how the apologies tumbled out of you, she couldn’t help but brush it off. You on the other hand insisted on getting it professionally cleaned - despite being a millionaire she let you, or well, you forced her to. You were living off scraps for the rest of the week, but your conscious was clean atleast. Althea had found your determination that day so interesting that she ended up asking you on a date, which led to two, then five - it was now your third date as wives.

Althea had never intended on dating such a young woman, she wasn’t even expecting you to say yes to the first date; Although she did feel like the luckiest woman on earth when you did. She was over double your age - she could see the issue with that, but your insistence on how much you loved her and didn’t care, she eventually got over it. Minus the joke she’d often make about how she was old enough to be your mother; you’d usually roll your eyes and brush her off.

You’d made a joke about how you should order red wine to commemorate your first run in with eachother and she laughed, a real laugh; it was the most relaxed you’d ever seen her. What could have ever possibly ruined such a mood? Well, the waitress.

After giving the woman your order, she didn’t even glance at Althea, “And what about for your mother?”