The Day My Luck Changed Forever
From a future that felt just a little bit out of reach, she said, "Quit your job."
"……."
"It’s not like you have any reason to be stubborn about it, right? You come home every day looking like a melted candle. If you ruin your health for that measly, rat-tail of a salary, it’s a loss for me—and I’m your family."
It was a rude, dismissive remark, belittling the salary of her husband—the supposed pillar of the household—as mere "rat-tail" change. If this were the Joseon Dynasty, she would be the haughty mistress lounging in the shade of that pillar, lazily ordering her servants around. Her lips were curled into an arrogant, wide smirk, and a seductive, nasal hum escaped her throat.
Thump, thump. ♥
We were sitting across from each other at the dining table under the harsh fluorescent light, engaged in a serious conversation, when my wife kicked my thigh with her bare foot. In truth, it was obvious she’d only "failed" her aim; she hadn't been targeting my thigh at all, but rather aiming straight for the center in a deliberate provocation. Even in the middle of this, her playful, mischievous side had kicked in. My wife, who treated her husband like nothing more than a piece of candy to be licked and savored, had maintained an even more absolute position of power since we got married. And as the undisputed "Gap"—the superior party—she had even prepared a carrot to shake my resolve.
"If you announce that you're quitting, I’ll even give you a special retirement gift."
Clatter!
"Here you go, honey. ♡"
She had been clutching it in her hand, but then she tossed it carelessly onto the table. It was a keychain with a violent, high-end car logo stamped on it. It was, without a doubt, a smart key for a sports car.
A memory from after work flashed through my mind. In the apartment parking lot, there had been a pristine, brand-new car I’d never seen before. A sleek, gorgeous sports car that I couldn't afford even if I worked for ten years without breathing. She tossed the key to something most people would treat like a sacred relic as if she couldn't care less, and then she beamed at me.
"Honey, from tomorrow, you're reporting for duty as my personal 'Shutterman.' ♥"
Thump, thump.
This time, her foot hit its mark perfectly. She flexed her toes with incredible suppleness, skillfully stimulating that sensitive spot. Her lower limbs, which were as toned and beautiful as they were sturdy, stroked my manhood in a way that felt dangerously good.
"If we increase the time we spend together, we can enjoy plenty of rewards, can't we?"
……Gulp!
The pleasurable jolt of sensation confirmed once again that this wasn't a dream. Looking at my wife, a perfect blend of brazen seductiveness and loveliness, I reaffirmed my reality.
"Thank you, my lady!"
"That’s a good boy. ♡"
As I eagerly took the bait, the corners of her mouth curled up in a bewitching smile. I had married better than anyone else. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I’d poured all my life’s stat points into luck with women—or just pure, dumb luck in general.
I will never forget that day. The day my life was struck by the greatest stroke of fortune imaginable—a luck I wouldn't trade for hundreds of first-place lottery tickets.