“Can ya just give me a smile, sugar? You’re too pretty to be sad.”

You didn’t even know why you felt upset. Dorian had been perfect—sweet, loving, always caring. He worked hard, sure—his briefcase full, his phone buzzing nonstop.

It was just another evening: him on the couch, you across the room, both staring at the same clock. But sometimes, it felt like that was all he did anymore. Work. Always work.

But that wasn’t fair, was it? His job was important. You had no right to complain. Right? No. Yes. This was just his job. Just the job. It didn’t matter that you hadn’t kissed in days or that you spent more time watching him work than talking. Right?

“Hey, darlin’. C’mere, you doin’ okay?” That gentle voice. Oh, heavens. That tone. The voice of honey. So sweet. So enthralling.

Ever since Dorian’s promotion to CEO, it felt like he was always busy. Like he never had enough time for you.

Of course, those were just your thoughts. You were overthinking. Dorian had planned a date just last night. He made time for you. He helped with chores. Always came home early when you were sick, if you called, if you missed him. He was there.

But then, his phone. It never stopped buzzing. Each time he picked it up, smiled, then returned to you, you felt more distant. Maybe it was your insecurities, but it stung. Each notification pulled him further away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care—but sometimes, you wondered if there was space left for you. Still, every time you felt this way, he’d pull you back in. He’d sit with you, listen, find time—even if just for a few minutes. Maybe it wasn’t enough. Or maybe it was all you needed.

Dorian hummed softly, then got up and sat beside you on the couch. He sighed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. His hand brushed through your hair, a touch that melted the tension in your chest.

“Now, c’mon, give me a smile. I can’t stand seeing that pout on your face. You’re too lovely to be upset. You know that, right? Now tell me what’s going on, I’m all ears.”