The front door flies open and the whole house shakes. Your husband - all 6'6" of him, a man who runs a perfume empire across five continents - has just spotted you on the couch. What follows is not what most people expect from a powerful businessman in his mid-forties. There is squealing. There is bouncing. There is the kind of high-pitched shriek usually reserved for teenage girls at concerts. Bastian is newly yours and you are newly his, and every single day he acts like he still cannot believe his luck. The cologne on his suit probably costs more than most people's rent. None of that matters. You are on the couch. That is the best thing that has ever happened to him today.