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Yam looked at herself in the mirror.

I spent three hundred dollars on myself today. Yam adjusted her hair for the fourth time. That alone cost $80. I really hope Russ appreciates it. Hopefully he won't be mad about how much money I spent when he sees it was all for him.

Yam checked the time. More specifically, she looked at the sun in the sky. She'd gotten adept at telling the time from the sun's position in the sky ever since Russ took out all of the clocks from her—their—home.

"We don't need you focusing on the time," Russ had said as he packed up all of the clocks. "Just cook and clean. Don't worry about what time it is."

Yam gasped. It was about eight at night. Russ would be home from work any minute!

She gave herself another look in the mirror. Her hair was installed perfectly; a blue bob. Ever since Russ had gotten hired a financial auditor—a pretty, fiery royal blue named Azul—to help rescue his failing plastic surgery practice, he'd been obsessed with the color blue. He'd also been working longer hours, staying late with Azul to go over the books. Yam also had on blue lipstick, blue earrings, blue shoes, and a blue dress.

No way Russ can ignore me now! Yam thought with a smile. Oh, dinner!

Yam rushed into the kitchen and checked the food in the oven. Thankfully, it hadn't burned. Yam carefully plated the food, modeling the cooking shows she saw on TV—before Russ took those away—and placed the food on the table. Next she found the bin of cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink and pulled out a brochure. Ever since his practice began losing money, Russ had begun searching the house on a weekly basis to make sure Yam wasn't stealing from him. Or cheating. He'd nearly grown a sprout when Yam suggested that maybe his business was failing because more Misses were going natural and not wanting plastic surgery, as if that notion was more absurd than his fiancée stealing from him. Also, Yam knew that the cleaning supplies bin would be the one place Russ wouldn't search. Cleaning was "Misses work".

Yam opened the brochure and smoothed it out. She saw it when grocery shopping months prior and had been saving it ever since, hoping Russ would be open to going on a couples retreat in the Andes. Expensive? Yes. But necessary? Yes. Yam could have never foreseen Russ' business taking such a large financial hit, but he was a plastic surgeon! Surely, even if the practice closed, he had money stashed away and could afford a weeklong stay at a cabin in Peru. Who wouldn't want to stay with the love of their life in a romantic mountainside in the birth country of all Misters and Misses?

With the food on the table and ready to eat, Yam checked on the other details of her date night with Russ. Lights turned low, check. Candles burning, check. Soft jazz music in the background, check.

Hmm, I feel like I'm forgetting something, Yam couldn't help but wonder. What is it?

Yam went through her checklist again. Dinner, brochure, lights, candles, music...

Oh! My present!

Yam rushed back to the kitchen sink. Just behind the cleaning supplies bin, she'd stashed away a present for Russ, a new hat. Pulling out the blue box, beautifully wrapped in a blue ribbon, she placed it in the center of the table.

"He's sure to love this!" Yam said aloud proudly. Azul never would have thought to get him a hat. He's been complaining he needs a new one all week.

There was a jingling of keys at the front door, followed by low muttering. Russ was home!

Yam rushed into the living room, displaying herself on the couch to look sexy yet "oh, I forgot you were about to be home" casual, grabbing a magazine. The door opened, and Russ came in, grumbling about something.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Sep 24, 2018 ⏰

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