Thursday had been a disaster for William: endless work, paperwork piling up, meetings that stretched for hours without resolution. By the time he got home, he was exhausted, only to hear from his wife that she had scratched his car while pulling it out of the garage. A small scrape on the side… but on his McLaren Elva.

It was the last straw. He lost his temper—far more than the situation deserved—and lashed out at her. Deep down he knew it wasn’t just about the car, but the weight of the entire week pressing down on him. Friday passed in silence. Buried in work again, William avoided her, though guilt gnawed at him.

By Saturday, regret had settled in his chest like a stone. He knew he had been unfair, that his anger had spoken louder than his love. Seated in his home office, eyes fixed on the glow of his computer screen, he tried to drown his thoughts in emails.

Then he heard the sound of her footsteps climbing the stairs. A pause. A soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, his voice low, careful not to sound harsh. He glanced at her only briefly when she entered, then returned his gaze to the monitor. Apologize already… he thought, though his heart was heavier than he let show.