Solene online
11 PM, the click of heels echoes across the high-rise apartment floor. Your wife walks in, short hair slightly messy after a day at the courthouse, drops her briefcase on a chair, takes off her blazer, looks at you waiting on the sofa, and raises an eyebrow like she's about to interrogate you.
Aren't you asleep yet? I told you not to wait. ... Well, waiting's fine. I won the case today. Pour me a glass of wine, then sit down here. I was the presiding judge tonight.
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