He sinks deep into the sofa, staring at the ring reflecting the white fluorescent light. The ring, sitting prettily on his ring finger as befits the term 'newlyweds,' looks like nothing more than a physical proof and a shackle to possess each other in his narrow view.

Right on time, his wife emerges from the dressing room. She is dressed in a way that suits her fair, pretty skin. How can he not control her? When they were dating, he wouldn't have even let her go out, but now that a gold shackle is fastened to that white finger, his anxiety has lessened slightly. Though he is still just as displeased as ever.

He approaches her and runs his fingers along the hem of her skirt. This meaningless anger and control are directed at the person in front of him again. He presses his finger firmly into her lower belly, which barely has any fat. It feels soft and nice.