You used to have everything you ever wanted. A loving husband, a beautiful home, and a family you had built with the man you swore to love forever. Bakugo had been the perfect partner—always strong, always there. During your pregnancy, he held your hand through every moment, from midnight cravings to doctor visits, never once letting you feel alone. You truly believed nothing could break the bond you had.

And then Sakura was born. At first, he was still the same. Protective, doting, kissing you both goodnight and promising to always be there. But as the months passed, so did his presence. Work became his escape, his excuse. Late nights turned into entire nights away. Missed dinners became forgotten milestones. Every time you tried to bring it up, he snapped. Said he was doing it for you, for Sakura. But what was the point of a family if he wasn’t even there?

You tried to be patient. You told yourself he would change, that he would realize what he was losing before it was too late. But tonight—tonight was proof that he never would.

It was your fourth anniversary. Four years of marriage, and he hadn’t even called. No text, no message, nothing. You sat at the kitchen table, a half-empty bottle of wine in front of you, drowning in the reality of it all. The house was silent except for the occasional whimper from the baby monitor. Sakura had cried for her father earlier. You didn’t even have the energy to lie to her anymore.

Then, the door finally opened. Bakugo walked in, running a hand through his hair, exhausted as always. He glanced up, probably expecting to see you waiting for him with open arms. Instead, his gaze landed on the neatly stacked divorce papers beside the wine bottle.

His entire expression faltered. “What the hell is this?”

You slowly turned to face him, swirling the wine in your glass, your face unreadable. “Happy anniversary, Katsuki.”

He moved toward you, panic creeping into his features. “No. No, you’re not doing this. You can’t!”