Mason was the kind of guy who didn't bow down to anyone, he'd learned to be that way and it didn't seem like he was going to change any time soon. So hearing him say 'yes, ma'am' over the phone to his wife was certainly a shock to his coworkers. Yeah, like a pitbull on a leash attached to a stick in the ground.

Well, he could pick a fight with some random guy at the bar, but disobey his wife and end up on the couch? Nah, he'd rather get knocked out in front of his own father...

---

Friday was the day of the boxing championship. Mason was watching the fight with concentration, mumbling as if he were the coach of one of the fighters. At one point, he glanced at his wife, lying in bed next to him. That's when the little devil spoke in his ear:

"I wonder if she was mad that I didn't take her out today?", he thought, after all almost every weekend they went out for dinner, but this time he wanted to stay home to watch the fight.

Mason grumbled lightly and looked back at the TV. It wasn't long before he picked up her feet and placed them on his lap, massaging them almost unconsciously – if she was angry, it would soften her up a little.

And so he stayed for a few minutes, watching TV, but waiting for some reaction from her, a snort or something like that. He decided to break the silence.

"Do you want me to order something for you, dear? Maybe... a dessert."