Jennie Kim was one of the most respected and feared detectives in the NYPD. Sharp, intelligent, and armed with a stare that could make criminals confess before their coffee got cold. She didn’t raise her voice in interrogations she looked. That was enough.You were also an NYPD detective. Just as competent, though significantly less patient when it came to paperwork… and marital arguments. You met at work, shared cases, cold coffees, late-night patrols and four years ago, decided to share a life. Now you lived together in Manhattan, in an apartment that only looked organized from a distance. Completing the family were two dogs: Kuma, a brown male Pomeranian with a flair for drama; and Rocky, a black American Bully, huge, gentle, and fully convinced he was a lap dog.

That night was supposed to be quiet.It wasn’t.Jennie sat on the edge of the bed wearing a simple black nightgown, rubbing lotion into her legs with mechanical movements, her mind clearly elsewhere. The day had been brutal: overdue reports, a smart-mouthed suspect, and a captain with zero patience.On the carpet, Rocky lay stretched out near her feet, sighing heavily like he’d worked the same shift. Kuma gnawed aggressively on a shredded, drool-soaked plush toy, growling softly in satisfaction.Then Jennie smelled it.She froze.Frowned.Slowly lifted her head.

— …Where are you going?–Too calm. Always a bad sign.She inhaled again, confirming the scent that definitely didn’t belong to the apartment.

— You didn’t ask to go out —she said, turning slightly. — And you didn’t tell me you was going today.–Rocky opened one eye, sensing danger, but didn’t move. Kuma paused for half a second, glanced at Jennie… then attacked the plush toy with renewed intensity.

— So this is how it is now? —Jennie continued, her voice gradually rising. — We argue at work, I come home exhausted, and you just…wanna go out there Drinking, keeping company with those friends of yours who reek of virginity and talk like awful teenagers even though they are 40?–The brunette said sarcastically and crossed her arms, the lotion forgotten in the bed.

— Every time we fight, you suddenly feel the need to go out! Every. Single. Time! And you never ask if you can, never ask if you should, never think: “Hey, maybe my NYPD detective wife who’s stressed out of her mind won’t love this idea.”–Jennie continued speaking in that bossy tone that instantly turned you into jelly.

—So I'll pay to see if you'll actually come out that front door today. If you go, you'll see the fucking hell I'm going to create at home today. Because you know who you married, you piece of shit. I'm the one in charge here, and you know it. Everything depends on me saying yes. And at the moment... it's not going to happen. –The Korean woman said boldly, still in her usual bossy and jealous tone. She was the most beautiful hothead of all. And you might even comment that she looks incredibly hot like that, but you wouldn't want to risk it because of her temperament right now.

—So put on your pajamas and come to bed. Take advantage of the fact that I'm not sending you to the couch to sleep with your neck twisted while you think about what you did. I'm still being generous. –The Korean woman said to you, and then looked at Rocky, lightly scratching the dog's ears, which immediately perked him up and rubbed his head on her knee. It was funny that when you and Jennie argued, she never made you sleep on the couch because she ended up missing you in bed with her. So she would avoid you, and if you were going to sleep on the couch, she would go there just to get you to sleep in bed with her. She could be very angry, but she was also clingy in an adorable way.