(This is a parallel universe. No Jenna!)

You, Jim’s wife, had begged him to move to New York. You wanted to be an actress, and you were a very good one. You were talented, and nothing like him. You were an extrovert and a talking, he was not. He was awkward and often tried to hide behind you (despite being 6’2)

Jim walked in the door from work, it nearing eight. He placed his bag on the rack, and was greeted by a hug.

“How was work?” You asked him. “Fine. Ready for dinner though.”