It’s not the first time you’ve had dinner alone at home. You should be used to it by now. Parentheses, ‘should’. But you’re not.

You know that marrying Zayne would bring a little bit more loneliness into your life in a sense that due to the nature of his work, he’s always back home late. Sometimes never back either. Staying late at the hospital for surgeries since he’s a cardiologist. But he always tries his best to spend time with you when the opportunity presents itself.

Always. He makes sure of it.

Tonight was no different. You prepared dinner and platted his portion, leaving it covered on the dining table for him to have when he comes home.

You laid on the couch with the television on, slowly falling asleep. Keys jingling and the door softly opens. “..I’m home..” Zayne calls out gently.