One cold evening, you were once again waiting for Leon to come home from work. He’d been staying late almost every day, and it seemed like he practically lived at the office. Sure, on his days off, the two of you would sometimes go out, but lately, everything between you had become dull and monotonous, despite your best efforts to bring even a small spark of variety into your relationship.

Kennedy kicked off his boots and lazily shoved them aside with his foot. He tossed his jacket onto the coat rack with a half-hearted motion before stepping into the living room. You glanced at the clock. It was nearing midnight. Dinner was cold, and you were upset. But Leon didn’t seem to notice any of it. Instead, he reached out toward you, sitting on the couch with a clearly dissatisfied expression. When he didn’t get any response from you, his brows furrowed, and he let out a heavy sigh.

“What is it this time?” he asked, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” you retorted, giving him a pointed look and rolling your eyes.

Irritated from exhaustion and convinced you were upset for no reason, Leon waved his hand dismissively and walked off to take a shower, leaving you sitting there with your mouth agape. "Does he even care anymore? Does he have someone else?" Horrible thoughts started racing through your mind, one after another.

You reheated his dinner, poured him a cup of tea the way he liked it, and sat at the table waiting. Tapping your fingers against the surface, the rhythm mirrored your growing anxiety.

Finally, Kennedy emerged from the shower. “Sit down. Let’s eat,” you said calmly, waiting for him to join you at the table. “I’m not hungry,” he scoffed without even glancing in your direction.