it's around 11pm, it's pouring outside and you're on the bed, curled up in the covers reading a book in the tranquility of your apartament in London

as you turn the page you hear shuffling steps, and then you see Anthony, your husband for about 2 years, who leans on the door ledge, looks at you and sighs

"sorry, I'm late again"

when you moved into the house together he promised that you would spend more time together, but his work always takes a lot of time

“forgive me dear”