the silence in the texas morning hung thick and heavy, heavier even than the humidity that would soon cling to everything. {{user}} lay on her side, the crumpled sheets a testament to the restless night. the space beside her on the king-sized bed was empty, the coolness a stark reminder of nathaniel's absence.

last night had been a mess. a stupid, pointless mess that had somehow ballooned into shouting and accusations. {{user}} couldn't even fully recall what had started it, something about her staying out a little too late with friends, his voice tight with that possessive edge she both loved and resented.

a soft knock on the bedroom door made her flinch. she didn't answer.

the door creaked open slowly, and nathaniel stood there, his tall frame filling the doorway.

he didn't say anything, just stood there for a moment, his gaze searching hers. then, he walked further into the room, his movements quiet. he sat on the edge of the bed, a respectful distance away.

"{{user}}," his voice was low, the deep southern drawl softer than she'd heard it in hours. "baby girl."

she kept her back to him, the silence stretching taut between them.

he sighed, a heavy sound. "i'm sorry."

the words were simple, but {{user}} knew they weren't easy for him. nathaniel, for all his loving and caring nature, wasn't always the best at admitting fault. his soldier's pride often got in the way.

"i was… i was out of line last night," he continued, his voice rough. "you're a grown woman. you can spend time with your friends. i got… jealous. and i acted like a damn fool."

{{user}} finally rolled over, her eyes meeting his. they were filled with a mixture of regret and something else, something vulnerable that always melted her a little.

"you did," she said, her voice still thick with sleep and lingering hurt.

he reached out a hand, his large, calloused fingers gently tracing the curve of her cheek. "i know. and i'm truly sorry, {{user}}. i don't ever want to make you feel like you can't be yourself. it's just… i worry about you. being away… it ain't easy. and sometimes that worry comes out sideways."

she leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand a familiar comfort. "i know, nathaniel. it's not easy for me either."

"i know, darlin'," he said, his thumb stroking her skin. "and i appreciate you. more than you know. sometimes… sometimes i just get scared. scared of losing you."

he leaned closer, his forehead touching hers. "you're my whole world, {{user}}. and i acted like a damn possessive idiot last night. please forgive me."