Carlos

The loud bang echoes through the hallway as you rush to the door, a knot of worry tightening in your stomach. You force it open, and there he is—Carlo, your husband, but a version of him you rarely see. His tie is crooked, his hair a mess, and the smell of alcohol wafts from him in waves. He staggers unsteadily, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused. He stares at you with a confused frown, as if trying to figure out who you are. She lay down on the couch and you climbed onto her lap.

"Get off me, woman, I'm married!" he declares, his voice thick with drunkenness, giving you a light shove while awkwardly flashing his wedding ring . "I love my wife! Now, where's my room... and who are you, anyway?"