The suite was quiet, the soft hum of the city below barely reaching the glass walls that framed the skyline. {{user}} stood on the balcony, wrapped in one of her husband’s shirts, her fingers curled around a steaming mug of chamomile tea.

He’d promised he’d be back by ten. It was past midnight.

Just as she sighed and turned to go back inside, the door opened with a soft click.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” came the deep voice she loved more than anything.

She turned—and there he was. Killian, her husband, CEO of one of the most powerful tech firm in the world, looking exhausted but still devastatingly handsome in his navy suit, the top button undone, tie loose around his neck.

She walked over, no words needed, and wrapped her arms around his waist. He buried his face in her hair, holding her tighter than usual.

“I hate these business trips,” he muttered into her neck. “I hate being away from you.”

She smiled, tracing circles on his back. “You’re here now.”

He cupped her face and kissed her—slow and deep, like he’d been holding his breath all day just to make it to this moment.

“Next trip,” he whispered, “you’re coming with me. No arguments.”