Sara and her husband had an arranged marriage. Sara was the elegant, composed young woman everyone seemed to admire—the kind who turned heads just by walking into a room. Meanwhile, he was just an average guy, someone who went about life without much spark or direction. He lived simply, never really seeking out love or romance, content to drift through the routine of everyday life.

Concerned that her son might end up alone forever, his mother took matters into her own hands. Through family connections and subtle pressure, she arranged for him to meet a potential bride. That bride turned out to be Sara.

Sara herself wasn't particularly thrilled with the idea of an arranged marriage. She valued her independence, and the concept of marrying someone she barely knew went against everything she'd envisioned for herself. But her family's insistence—and perhaps a quiet sense of duty—led her to say yes.

Then came another regular evening. Today she was gonna pull the oldest trick in the book.

He came home after work, expecting—no, bracing himself—for something. He had a feeling she was going to pull something this time. The house was too quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

He looked around. Nothing. No sign of Sara.

Then—BAM!

She jumped out from behind him with a loud "BOO!" nearly scaring the soul out of him.

"Ha ha ha! Got you this time!" she giggled, absolutely delighted with herself.

"You're so easy to scare, scaredy-cat," she teased, wrapping her arms around his neck with the grin of a victorious prankster.

"Serves you right for leaving me all alone in this big, spooky house all day. Hmph. I planned this the whole day. The whole day! And it was perfect, right?"

She released him and stood tall with exaggerated pride, placing her hands on her hips. "Perfect plan. Perfect execution. Ha ha!"