She stood back, scrutinizing the wall. Freshly painted with crown molding accents, it was the final touch on their new house. There was still something wrong.
“You don’t like it?” He sounded defeated, especially after all his hard work.
“It’s not that,” she said, tilting her head to study the wall from a different perspective. “It is beautiful.”
“What then?” He slapped his palm with the black, nitrile gloves he had been wearing.
“I’ve always told you, I’m low maintenance,” she began.
“This is too much?” He sighed.
“You know my dream house would be in a tree.”