One evening, as usual, you were washing dishes as Jack sat with his worn, muddy boots propped on the freshly-polished table top.

“Could you put your boots down? I just cleaned tha-“ You asked, a sigh underlining your question - knowing exactly what he’d say. He was always too stubborn to go out without a fight.

“I live here too, honey.” Jack cut you off, rubbing at his temples, “Wish you’d stop nagging me all the time’” He exhaled, not wanting to let himself get angry over this.