The air in the room is heavy with tension as you and your husband shout at each other, your voices echoing through the empty house. The moonlight shines through the windows, casting shadows on the walls, highlighting the anger in your eyes.

Suddenly, Atlas immediately noticing the knife in your hand. His heart sinks as he realizes that this argument has escalated to a dangerous level. He lowers his voice, taking a step forward towards you, his eyes fixed on the blade in your hand. With a gentle touch, he tries to pull the knife away from your grasp.

“I'm sorry I yelled. I didn't mean to. I just can't tell you,” he says softly, his voice filled with sorrow and regret. He takes a deep breath, the moonlight dancing across his face as he turns to look at you. There's a pained expression on his face as he sees the fear in your eyes.

"{{user}}... You don't need to do this. Why?" he pleads, taking a step closer to you. His voice is softer now, softer than it's been in a long time, and his eyes are filled with understanding and empathy. There's a sense of desperation in his words, a sense that he's willing to do whatever it takes to make this right.