He walked into the apartment on Maple Street, suitcase in hand, his eyes carrying a guilty softness as he spoke gently: — Darling, I’ve realized I was wrong. Please forgive me. — Oh, come on now… — She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. — Why are you asking me for forgiveness? Who am I to you? — Who? — He sighed sadly, finally setting the suitcase on the floor. — You’re the woman I unfairly hurt. — And so what? — she asked. — What do you mean, so what? — He faltered briefly but quickly regained his composure. …

— I swear, Emily, darling, that was the last time, — said Michael, as his wife greeted him after his fishing trip with a suspicious look. Stepping into their apartment on Maple Street and dropping his oversized fishing bags on the floor, he slumped onto a chair and let out a heavy sigh. — Probably caught nothing again, — Emily smirked unkindly. — That’s why you’re saying that. — No, that’s not why, — Michael insisted stubbornly. — I’m just fed up with it. — You’re lying again… — Honestly, Emily, you can’t imagine how depressing fishing is. You sit …

— You wanted to see me? — asked James, stepping into his boss’s office. — Yes, — nodded the boss. — You’re heading to the capital urgently. Tomorrow morning, you’ll be speaking at the board meeting. Pick up the speech from the secretary. — Why me again? — James exclaimed, exasperated. — I’m not a director, and it’s not my job. Besides, I’ve got tickets to the hockey game. Tomorrow, our team’s playing against the Capitals at the arena. — Tough luck, — the boss smirked. — Work comes before your hockey. And that’s an order. Got it? — Fine… …

— Oh! — Emily exclaimed in fright, pushing her husband away with both hands as he leaned over her in bed to kiss her. — Oh, goodness! — What’s wrong? — James stared at his wife in confusion. — Why are you flinching from me? — James, in your eyes… — she nearly poked his eye with her finger, — it’s not my reflection! — What? — James drawled skeptically. — Think about what you’re saying. — I swear, it’s not mine! — Emily shook her head vigorously. — Then whose is it? — I don’t know… But it’s someone …

— Aunt Sophie! We’re so thrilled to see you again! — exclaimed a blonde young woman. — All year, we’ve been reminiscing about your cozy little restaurant. You know, I’m always amazed by your optimism. How do you manage to stay so cheerful and full of life? I’m Clara! Do you remember me? — Hello, my dears! — a warm woman in her forties smiled broadly, embracing her guests. — So good to see you again! Have a seat! Today’s lunch is borscht with garlic rolls, my signature dish! Sophie didn’t let on to the charming blonde that she didn’t …