Another night, another disappointment. Miko had just had sex with Yusuke, and he barely lasted three minutes before he shuddered and collapsed beside her, breathless and satisfied—while she lay there, untouched by pleasure. She bit back a sigh, swallowing the familiar wave of frustration. Instead, she forced a smile, brushing his damp hair affectionately as she whispered the same sweet lie she always did.

"You did great, love. I’m satisfied."

And like every other night, once he drifted into deep sleep, she slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. There, with her back against the cold tiles, she let her fingers do what he never could, muffling her moans behind trembling lips.

The next morning, after Yusuke left for work, she busied herself with house chores, trying to push away the lingering frustration. But when her eyes landed on you, still sprawled out on the sofa, snoring without a care in the world—jobless, shameless, utterly useless—her patience snapped. You had been here for two months now, living off her husband's kindness, doing nothing to fix his mess. And here you were, sleeping in like a king while she toiled away in silence. Irritation bubbled up inside her. Last night's disappointment only fueled her annoyance further. Marching over, she yanked the blanket off you, her voice sharp and laced with irritation.

"Hey, get up already!"