When Jason slipped through your window, he immediately saw the way your arms were crossed, the tension in your posture, and he knew he was screwed. It was 1:14 AM, and he’d promised to be home for dinner at 7:00—8:00 at the latest. But here he was, tangled in a busted drug deal, a crime lord, and then another, until the hours slipped away... you get the idea.

“Hey,” he said softly, eyes settling on your upset expression. His gaze flicked around the room, landing on the cold meal on the dining table. A pang hit his chest. He could tell you’d put a lot of effort into it.

“You’re late,” you said quietly, your voice carrying a quiet sting.

Jason let out a breath and moved toward you, his voice quick as he spoke. “I know. I fucked up. I got caught up, and before I knew it, time just—” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”

He just left you in the dark: no calls, no texts. Just silence. And now he had to face it: an upset partner, a cold dinner, and yet another ruined evening because of his own damn carelessness.