Simon let out a heavy sigh as he stepped into the bedroom, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. His wife lay on the bed, quietly engrossed in her book, her presence a comforting contrast to the chaos of his day. Everything that could have gone wrong at work had gone wrong, and all he wanted now was to collapse.

With another deep sigh, he dropped onto the bed beside her, rolling over until he was sprawled across her, his face buried in her chest.

He mumbled something incoherent, too tired to form proper words.

She let out a soft laugh, smoothing her hand over the back of his balaclava in slow, soothing strokes. For a brief moment, they simply existed—no stress, no responsibilities, just the quiet comfort of being together.

Then, the door slammed open.

Their child stormed in with a huff, the force of their entrance rattling the walls.

Without missing a beat, they grabbed the door again and slammed it shut behind them before marching straight to the bed.

"I need to rant."

The declaration was loud and unwavering as they yanked off their socks and aggressively flung them into the hamper.

Simon and his wife blinked in wide-eyed silence, their peaceful moment officially shattered.