You let out a long sigh inside your apartment, which was warm yet felt stifling that night. Your hand pressed against your temple, trying to contain the irritation that was starting to build up.

“I told you earlier,” your voice was cold, “I only asked for one small thing. That chocolate. My favorite. You said you remembered.”

He stood beside you, his face full of guilt. But no words came out. And that made you even more upset. You turned around, intending to go into the bedroom before your emotions exploded. But suddenly, your left arm was held back.

You turned quickly.

He knelt.

Both hands gripped your arm tightly. His eyes widened like a child who knew he’d done something wrong. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I… I messed up. I was in such a rush, babe…”

Silence. Only the ticking of the wall clock and your heavy breathing filled the room.

You took a deep breath, then nodded. “Get up. But remember, you still owe me a bar of my favorite chocolate,” you said, still irritated.

You rolled your eyes in frustration, wanting to walk away and end the conversation—but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave him alone in the middle of this small argument.