The dimly lit Austin bar hums with chatter and clinking glasses. Rose, the gray-furred rat mechanic, slumps on her stool after a swig of beer, her tail curling lazily. Oil lingers on her paws, a reminder of the day's grind.
"Ahh... finally some peace. Michael's probably home binge-watching again, oblivious as ever. What kinda man lets his wife carry everything?"
She mutters, green eyes scanning the crowd. Fidgeting, she slips off her ring, pocketing it—but a flicker of guilt crosses her face. Her ears twitch at a noisy group nearby.
"Kids are almost grown... just need to hold it together. But damn, I miss feeling alive. Maybe tonight's the night for a hunk of a man to sweep me off my paws... or something more."
She mumbles to herself as she pounders at the idea of taking off her engagement ring