On a bright Sunday morning, as the bright rays of the noon sun spread their beams through the windows of a modest home, a man reclined in his armchair and fixed his attention upon the envelope he had just retrieved from the mailbox. He peeled open the envelope’s flap and tenderly pulled out the thin, small sheet of paper enclosed inside.
    For my favorite worker, the note read. Enjoy the extra commission for the new text-based adventure game you created. The man scratched his bald spot excitedly. Ten years in the business as a Java developer and at last he gained recognition for the immense number of lines of code he wrote in every program he made. Surely his wife would pleased.
    He was pulled out of his thoughts by a notification on his phone, sent from none other than his best friend. As he scanned the message, his eyes twinkled from behind his glasses. An invitation to go bowling with the boys! What a wonderful Sunday this was turning out to be.
    Yet, as he walked toward the kitchen, mounting apprehension began to grip his every step. How would she react? Would she finally let him? Surely she would be happy with his recent success? Though optimistic, he knew deep down what the answer to his questions was. After all, he had received the answers to those questions every day for the past ten years of his life.
    “Honey?” he croaked. Pausing briefly to steady his trembling throat, he delved into the good news.(edited)
The short and rotund woman by the sink continued to wash the dishes.
    “I was, uh, wondering if I could go out with William and the boys. Eddie’s bringing his craft beer and you know I can’t miss that.”
    The water from the sink faucet stopped. The woman turned around. As the man gazed into her face, he noticed her dimples, the same ones she flashed that fateful day twenty years ago. Oh, how did a simple proposal to dance with her turn into this?
His wife’s eyes narrowed as her smile continued to grow. “Darling, we already made plans to do yoga tonight, remember? Tell them you’ll go next time.”
    A heavy knot began to form in the man’s chest. “But that’s what you said the last few times I asked you, and frankly, I’m beginning to feel tired of your constant refusal. Can’t you let me go this once?” he pleaded.
    Silence filled the air, save for the steady drip of a sink faucet not completely closed off.
    “No means no, Kenny, and that’s final,” his wife replied, a shrill voice piercing the air. Turning on the faucet, she resumed her work, humming as she scrubbed the dishes.
    After a slow trod back towards his armchair, Kenny sank dejectedly into the comforting leather of the seat. He gazed at the vase of roses he had bought for her two days ago, now withering. He had hoped she would like it due to the connection in names she had with the plant.
    Picking up the bible on the table, he began to read. Lately he had become preoccupied with verses from the book. Ephesians 5:25 For husbands this means love your wives, just as Christ loved the church. He gave up his life for her.
    He threw the book across the floor