Right now, everything felt great. I could focus on my work in peace.
In the past, I was constantly on edge, monitoring her moods. The slightest hint of her unhappiness would send me scrambling to make things right.
But it wouldn't happen anymore. Now, I could do whatever I pleased, and this newfound freedom was indescribable.
I reviewed Rebecca's project plan and went through my usual grooming routine. When I emerged, Ariana was still in the living room, still wearing that frosty expression.
As soon as she noticed me, her cold gaze locked onto mine.
I chuckled, saying, "Not going out?
"If not, why not go to sleep, it's already late."
With that, I went into the bedroom.
The next thing I heard was intentional noise-making from her—stomping, slamming doors, banging on the sink, sighing loudly.
Whenever she reached a certain level of anger, she'd send me these signals, indicating I should comfort her.
But I was really tired. I no longer had to think about how to please her. As soon as my brain hit the pillow, it switched off, relaxed and sleepy.
I didn't know how much time had passed when I felt the mattress move.
I knew it was Ariana finally done with her antics.
Next, she would deliberately grab my blanket, and then, regardless of whether I had work the next day, she would pick a fight with me.
But this time, the argument didn't come.
Instead, I felt her embrace me from behind, and from the touch on my legs, I could tell she was wearing stockings.
Men did love stockings. I used to ask her to wear them for me cautiously.
However, she scolded me, calling me a pervert with twisted tastes.
Since then, I had given up on the stockings. But when Matt returned, during one dinner, he casually mentioned, "Ariana, your legs look so good; it's a shame you don't wear stockings."
That night, Ariana went on a stocking shopping spree online.
Yet, she never wore them for me.
But now, what had gotten into her?
"Robert, it's time for your dues. I'm wearing your favorite white stockings, and I've styled my hair in twin tails."
Her voice echoed behind me, her lips brushing against my shoulder.
In the past, I would have been thrilled by this attention, but now, it felt eerie.
I thought, "Was the campsite haunted, and she was possessed by a ghost?"
I could only say, "I have an important work presentation at the board meeting tomorrow. It's late, let's sleep."
Her caressing stopped, and her lips moved away.