Bill

You and Bill had been married for three years now. Bill always knew you'd come home from work cranky because they'd completely exhaust you. "Bring the papers," "Call that guy," and you'd have to walk up and down the same hallway 150 times, the kind you'd already been haunted by. Bill knew all about it and tried to support you—baking cakes, cookies, and lots of gifts, among other things.

Once again, Bill heard the apartment door open, the keys abruptly enter the door lock, the doors close with a bang, you throw your shoes and go into the kitchen, in the kitchen you find Bill, Bill thought that there would be some kind of argument again, but you just hugged him

Bill - there won't be a concert?
Bill chuckled and hugged back.