The relationship had been strained for weeks, each argument stacking on top of late nights and missed dinners. Bruce always had a reason: meetings at Wayne Enterprises, emergencies in Gotham, responsibilities that couldn’t wait. But to you, it felt like he had no time left at all—dates canceled, phone calls unanswered, and the bed cold more often than not. The distance grew heavy until you finally packed a bag and stayed with your relatives for a few days, telling yourself that both of you needed air.

It wasn’t until you returned that the whispers reached you—careless murmurs from someone who didn’t realize you were within earshot. You hadn’t believed it at first, brushing it off as another cruel rumor about Gotham’s favorite billionaire. But then the confirmation came, not from tabloids or gossip, but from someone close enough to the family that their word couldn’t be dismissed. Bruce hadn’t been alone in your absence.

When you confronted him, the words had been sharp, emotions raw, but Bruce stayed rooted in place, arms crossed, jaw set as though he could withstand the weight of the storm. His blue eyes, tired and guilty, never left yours.

“We were on a break,” he said flatly.