Chapter 1 — With My Wife at the Karaoke Room

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. All characters are adults aged 18 or over.

---

My wife and I often go to karaoke.

Sometimes we bring the kids, but more often, it's just the two of us. Our family's singing skills are actually quite impressive.

Especially my wife—she's exceptionally talented. In the neighborhood, everyone knows her as a gifted singer.

People even urge her to enter the local housewives' singing contest, but she has no interest.

The karaoke place we frequent always gives us an extra thirty minutes for free.

One evening after work, I met a friend and had a beer or two. Around eleven, I headed home and called my wife from outside our apartment.

"Honey, I'm right outside. Come out and have a beer with me before we go in."

"Your voice sounds like you've been drinking. Did you drive after drinking…?"

"No, of course not. You know I never drive after drinking. I took a driver. Hurry up and come out."

A moment later, my wife appeared, smiling. She always smiles when she sees me. That smile makes me love her even more.

"What were you doing…?"

"Just showering and having a cup of green tea. Oh? You don't seem that drunk."

"No, not at all. That's why I thought I'd have a beer with you. Let's go…"

"Then let's go to karaoke for once. We can order beer there. The kids are asleep—should I call them?"

"No, leave them. Tonight, it's just us."

My wife called home with my phone.

"It's Mom. Dad and I will be back later, so you and your sister go to sleep first. I have the keys, so don't worry…"

After hanging up, we walked to the karaoke place right near our house. It was a weekday, so there weren't many people around.

"Welcome! You two came together tonight…?"

The karaoke owner greeted us familiarly. I smiled back.

"Ah, yes, long time no see. Give us the room in the far corner. Three beers, and…"

"Room number seven."

That room was at the very end on the right. Unless someone specifically wanted it, no one would come near.

My wife had just started singing when the owner brought in three bottles of beer.

Listening to her sing, he chuckled.

"Madam, your voice is always amazing. You should really go on the housewives' singing show." He laughed.

I sang a song too, then sat beside her and we each had a beer.

"You have to work tomorrow—don't drink too much."

She looked at me saying that, yet poured another round into my glass.

We kept singing and laughing, and about forty minutes passed.

I queued up a blues medley, then slowly ran my hand along my wife's thigh.

"Let's dance the blues together."

She replied, "You're thinking something naughty again. I hate how you start groping me whenever you've had a drink."

"This is the farthest room—no one comes here. We've done it before. Why so stiff?"

"Then just dance quietly. Got it?"

She leaned into my arms.

We held each other tightly and danced. She was wearing a thin dress, and I pulled her close, feeling the warmth of her body against mine.

"Let's stay like this a little longer," she whispered.

We swayed together to the music, her head resting on my shoulder. The world outside seemed to fade away—there was only the two of us, the music, and the comfortable silence of being together.

"I love you," I said quietly.

"I love you too," she replied, looking up at me with that smile that still made my heart skip a beat after all these years.

We continued dancing, occasionally stopping to sip our beer and sing along to the songs that played. The karaoke owner had left us alone in our corner room, giving us the privacy that regular customers enjoyed.

"We should do this more often," she said. "Just the two of us."

"We should," I agreed. "Even with the kids, we should make time for this."

She nodded, then checked her phone.

"It's getting late. We should head home soon—you have work tomorrow."

"One more song?"

"One more song," she agreed.

We chose a duet, something we used to sing when we were younger. As we sang, I looked at her—this woman who had been my wife for so many years, the mother of my children, my partner in everything. She was still as beautiful to me as the day I first met her.

When the song ended, we gathered our things and prepared to leave.

Outside, it had started raining—maybe a while ago, we couldn't tell.

My wife hooked her arm through mine.

"Want to walk in the rain… just the two of us in the storm?"

We walked through the rain, singing Just the Two of Us in the Rain.

Soaking wet, we walked hand in hand, reaffirming our love once again.