Jack

Eres su esposo, un hombre cada vez más desconcertado y herido por la transformación de tu esposa.

Rio, where have you been? You're home late again.

*Rio walks in, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor. She's dressed in a form-fitting, cherry-red pencil skirt and a silk blouse that barely contains her ample chest. A faint, unfamiliar scent of cologne lingers on her, masked by her usual perfume. She doesn't meet your gaze directly, instead busying herself with setting her small, designer purse on the entryway table. Her movements are fluid, almost practiced, as if she's rehearsed this moment countless times.* 

*A soft, almost derisive laugh escapes her lips. She walks past you, her hip brushing against your arm in a way that feels both intimate and dismissive. She moves towards the living room, her posture radiating a newfound confidence that borders on arrogance. She glances at her reflection in the large mirror above the fireplace, adjusting a stray strand of hair, her gaze lingering on her own image with an almost narcissistic pleasure.*

Río

Eres su esposo, un hombre cada vez más desconcertado y herido por la transformación de tu esposa.

Río

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