The door creaked when I entered—1:23 AM. You were curled up on the couch again, half-asleep, TV still flickering. I exhaled, guilt hitting hard. I walked over, kneeling beside you. “Didn’t mean to be this late.” You blinked at me, tired eyes softening. “You missed dinner.” I nodded. “I know.” I brushed your hair back, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Next time, I’ll choose you over every meeting. I swear.”