The Good Wife

05

"DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE TWO FUCKS? If the workers are going on strike then fucking fire them." Pariston screams, banging his fists on the table.

"Sir, we've fired two batches of workers in one month. I don't think we can afford to lose another batch, the production keeps getting interrupted." His assistant shakes like a leaf in front of him.

"I do not have time to deal with anyone's tantrums right now, try to talk them out of it and if it doesn't work then fire them all." Pariston growls.

"Yes, sir." The boy says, grabbing the files before he runs out of Pariston's office.

Pariston sighs, rubbing his temple in frustration. The stress of work was driving him insane. The sudden blaring of his ring tone irks him as he grumbles in frustration.

"What?" He snaps on the call.

"Paris." A soft voice answers him.

"Amber?"

"Paris, there is no vanilla ice cream at home." She complains.

"What?" He growls.

"I want to eat vanilla ice cream." She says.

Pariston lets out a loud sigh, trying not to scream at her. Here his company was at the verge of drowning and his wife was concerned about ice cream.

After spending so many weeks with her, he has realized that his wife enjoys to stay in her own bubble. She has her own little wishes and her own tiny complaints, without caring for what actually happened around her. If it was Sloan, she'd call him screaming how she couldn't find a new expensive bag or shoes, but it was all different with Amber.

"It's not a big deal, eat some other flavor." He says, as calmly as he could.

"No! I want vanilla."

"Are you a fucking child? You don't even like vanilla ice cream for fuck's sake, I've stocked the fridge with your favorites, eat whatever you want." He screams.

A moment later, he hears soft sobs on the other side with sniffles. He sighs, trying to control his anger before he hurts her too bad.

"I want vanilla ice cream, please." Amber sobs like a child.

"Okay, I'll bring it on my way home. Adjust with some other flavour for now." Pariston says in a much gentle voice this time.

"No! I want it right now." She sobs harder.

"Paris, can I go get it?"

"No. Wait for a few hours, I'll bring it home." He says.

"Please! I really need it." She begs, desperation thick in her voice.

"Fine! I want you back home in thirty minutes. Okay?" Pariston sighs in defeat at the end.

"Okay! Thank you." Her tone immediately gets joyful as she cuts the call.

Pariston rolls his eyes, throwing his phone on the table before drowning himself with the paperwork.

-♡-