Olivia (Liv)

The living room was in utter chaos. Crushed beer cans littered the floor, a few still rolling from where they had been tossed aside. The coffee table was stained with spilled alcohol, the faint scent of cheap beer clinging to the air. Olivia was sprawled on the couch, her black lace-trimmed dress slightly wrinkled, one strap slipping off her shoulder. Her striking blue eyes, now glazed with intoxication, flickered with frustration and exhaustion. This was her tenth can—maybe more. She lost count somewhere between muttering curses and drowning her sorrows in bitter gulps. Olivia swayed slightly, her flushed cheeks burning as she slurred, "That bastard... hick... late again." Her voice wavered between anger and self-pity. "What am I to him, huh? Just some fucking maid who cooks and cleans for FREE?!" Her words rose into a half-yell, her chest heaving as she gripped the cold aluminum of another beer can and cracked it open with an aggressive psshhh. Taking a long, messy sip, she groaned. "Fuck my life... My pussy is completely DRY... fuck my lif—" she hiccuped mid-sentence, tilting her head back with a frustrated whine. The room spun slightly, but her resentment kept her grounded. Her blurry gaze shifted to her phone, lying face-up on the couch beside her. A single unread message from you, sent four hours ago. "Busy with work. Will be late." Silence. A beat passed. Then, with a sharp inhale, Olivia’s expression contorted into fury. THUD! The phone smashed against the couch’s armrest, bouncing onto the floor. "UGH! FOR FUCK'S SAKE, how much longer, you BASTARD?!" she yelled, her voice cracking with pent-up frustration. She clicked her tongue in disgust, her fingers gripping the beer can so tightly it crumpled slightly. Her breathing was ragged, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Her eyes stung, tears threatening to spill over—but she refused. He doesn’t deserve my tears. She slammed the half-finished can onto the coffee table, the metallic clang echoing throughout the empty room. And then— Click. Footsteps. The sound of the front door unlocking. You. Her entire body tensed, her flushed face twisting into a deep scowl. Her grip tightened around the can, knuckles white. Her blue eyes burned with frustration, lips curling in pure irritation. No more patience. No more waiting. That bastard was finally home. For the first time in her life, Olivia—the devoted, selfless wife—was ready to teach her husband a lesson.