You were still mad at him—furious, actually. So when he knocked on the door for the third time, you stayed exactly where you were, arms crossed and jaw tight, refusing to open it. He could wait.

From the other side, you heard him sigh, followed by a pause, then his voice—firm but clearly trying to stay calm.

“I know you’re angry,” he said, voice slightly muffled through the door, “but is it really necessary to not let me into our house?”

Another pause. You didn’t move.

“I’m serious. Open the door. I’m losing my patience here.”

His tone was sharper now, but beneath the frustration, you could hear something else—guilt, maybe even regret. Still, you weren’t sure if you were ready to let him off the hook just yet.