I broke my back hauling cement to put my germaphobe wife through her PhD. On our anniversary, I showered three times and sprayed on the perfume she liked, only to be turned down for the ninety-ninth time. She pulled on medical gloves and started blasting disinfectant around the room. "Don't come near me reeking of mud and grime! That's all you dirtbag types ever think about. The idea of mating with you like some animal makes me sick!" The next morning, I carried breakfast upstairs to try to make peace, only to hear muffled rustling and stifled moans coming from the bedroom. A man's voice, dripping with amusement, drawled, "Serena, doing our biometric data mapping on your marriage bed... you don't think Asher will mind, do you? Some low class probably wouldn't get it anyway. I shouldn't come between you two. Maybe I should just leave." Serena grabbed his hand and pressed it against her chest, sneering, "We're sacrificing ourselves for a scholarship. What would that day laborer know? Once the three million from Cole Financial Group hits the account, we're flying straight to Aldoria for the advanced haptic feedback trials. Worst case, we get divorced. Nobody's going to interfere with us." Looking at that face full of arrogance, I gave a cold laugh and dumped the breakfast into the trash. I turned around and made a call. "Harrison, pull every last dollar of funding from the Aldoria project."