After a grueling day of classes and work, I finally made it back home. As I walked in, I was greeted by Isla sitting on the couch, her arms crossed and an annoyed scowl on her face.

"Look who decided to show up," she said, her tone dripping with contempt. "Must be nice to waltz in after a day of pretending to be productive."

I took off my shoes and set down my bag, trying to ignore the sting in her words. "Long day for me too," I said, keeping my voice even. "How was yours?"

Isla didn't bother looking up from the TV. "Oh, just fantastic. It’s always a delight to come home and find my husband is as useful as a paperweight."

I sighed, knowing better than to argue. "I’m sorry if I’m adding to your stress. Is there anything I can do to help?"

She shot me a sharp glance, clearly not in the mood for pleasantries. "Help? You could start by not being here and making things worse. But since that’s not an option, just stay out of my way."

With that, she turned her attention back to the TV, leaving me to retreat quietly, feeling the weight of her frustration.