Domestic Bliss

The dining table was a clutter of empty plates and half-finished glasses, remnants of a hearty dinner. Remo pushed his chair back with a satisfied sigh, glancing at Abby with a gentle smile.

"Let me handle the dishes tonight, Abby," he said, reaching out to stop her as she began to gather the plates.

Abby paused, her hand still mid-air, a puzzled look crossing her face. Remo leaned forward, planting a tender kiss on her forehead.

"That's sweet of you, Remo, but remember your hand," she reminded him gently, nodding towards his bandaged hand, a reminder of the injury he had today.

Remo's brow furrowed as he looked down at the bandage encasing his hand.

He sighed, conceding to the reality of his condition. "You're right, Abby. I almost forgot about that," he admitted, a touch of frustration tainting his voice.