They had been married for nearly a year, yet the "newlywed" label still felt like a heavy coat they hadn't quite learned how to button. Sumi was currently buried in a cookbook at the kitchen table, her brow furrowed in the kind of intense concentration she usually reserved for complex tax returns. "Sumi?" Ikuma ventured, leaning against the doorframe.
As they stood side-by-side in the cramped kitchen, bumping elbows and laughing at a stray shell, the weight of "doing it right" began to lift. They were inexperienced, sure—but they were exactly where they needed to be. They had been married for nearly a year,
Sumi looked down at the floor, her voice a whisper. "I just want to be a good wife. I feel like I’m still learning the basics while everyone else is already on the advanced lessons." As they stood side-by-side in the cramped kitchen,
The rain drummed a steady, rhythmic beat against the window of the small apartment, a sound that usually brought Ikuma peace. But tonight, it only amplified the silence sitting between him and Sumi. "I just want to be a good wife