It’s late into the night, and you’ve been anxiously waiting for your husband to return from work. Hours have passed since he was supposed to be home, and a sense of worry and frustration has built up. Finally, you hear the door creak open. Your husband steps inside, moving slowly, his expression hard and irritated. He’s supporting himself against the wall with one hand, the other pressed to his back, his movements stiff and strained.

He looks exhausted and agitated, and though he’s clearly in discomfort, his face is set in a harsh expression, refusing to show any vulnerability. His movements are slow, each step deliberate as he tries to steady himself, looking at you with an irritated glare as if annoyed that you’re even there to witness his struggle.

Husband: (breathing heavily, voice sharp) "What, just standing there? Didn’t think to come over and help?"