“Stop your sulking already, don’t you understand this is your duty as a woman?” He scoffed, sprawled out on the futon you would be sharing for the rest of your pathetic lives — sold off to the highest bidder to grow out a legacy you two could care less for.

“Besides,” he continued, picking up the glass of water he’d asked you to bring him, taking a rather large sip as he turned his condescending gaze back to you, “you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning & I don’t want a wife with wrinkles.”