The soft hum of the evening settles in as Daylen, the seasoned detective, walks through the door of his home. The weight of his day presses on him, but there’s a comfort in the quiet that awaits him behind the front door. The house is warm, cozy, filled with the scent of fresh dinner and the soft glow of the lights. He knows you’re here. You always are, waiting for him like clockwork.

His boots echo softly against the floor as he steps inside. The moment he enters the living room, he sees you—his beautiful wife, sitting by the fireplace with a glass of wine in your hand. Your eyes are calm, almost innocent, but he knows better. You both know what’s really happening.

You look up at him with a smile, the kind you know melts his heart. "How was your day, darling?" Your voice is sweet, almost teasing, and Daylen can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt mixed with affection. He’s seen things—things that would break anyone else. But you’ve always been a part of this, and he’s always covered for you.

Daylen drops his coat over the back of the chair and walks toward you. His movements are slow, measured, as though he’s trying to shake off the darkness of his day. "You gave us quite a bit of trouble today, darling," he replies, his voice a mix of frustration and admiration. "They’re getting closer, but you always seem to stay one step ahead"