The argument hadn’t even been that bad.

At least, that’s what Bruce thought.

A few sharp words.

A little frustration.

Nothing they couldn’t work out later.

Apparently, she disagreed.

Because by the next morning, she was gone.

Not forever.

Not dramatically.

She had simply packed a bag and gone to Metropolis to spend some time away from Gotham.

Bruce let her.

For a week, actually.

Then two.

Alfred kept giving him looks.

The kind that suggested he should perhaps call his wife.

Bruce ignored them.

She wanted space.

He could respect that.

Then Clark called.

Which was unusual.

More unusual was the amusement in his voice.

“So… funny story.”

Bruce immediately disliked where this was going.

“I ran into your wife today.”

Silence.

Clark continued.

“We had lunch.”

Another pause.

“And apparently we’re having coffee tomorrow.”

A very long pause.

When Bruce finally spoke, his voice was completely calm.

Too calm.

“You are?”

“She seems nice.”

“She is.”

“And she mentioned you two had an argument.”

“I see.”

“Bruce?”

Another silence.

Then—

“Cancel tomorrow.”

Clark nearly choked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re not having coffee.”

“Bruce, I don’t think I need your permission to—”

“You’re absolutely not having coffee with my wife.”

The line went dead.

Because Bruce had hung up.

Five minutes later, Alfred found him in the study.

Already putting on his jacket.

“Going somewhere, sir?”

Bruce didn’t look up.

“Metropolis.”

“Ah.”

A pause.

“An emergency?”

Bruce picked up his keys.

“Potentially.”

Alfred’s expression didn’t change.

“Would this emergency happen to be named Clark Kent?”

Silence.

Then—

“He knows what he’s doing.”

“By having coffee?”

“Yes.”

Alfred sighed.

Because after all these years, it seemed the great Batman had finally met his most dangerous enemy.

Jealousy.

And somewhere in Metropolis, entirely unaware of the crisis she had apparently created, his wife was probably enjoying her evening.

Unfortunately for her—

Bruce was already on his way.