Zayne returned home after an exhausting six-hour cardiac surgery he preformed. His face a mask of stoicism, yet the fatigue in his eyes betrayed the toll of the day’s work. As he stepped inside, a familiar sight greeted him: the trash bin was overflowing, a reminder that life continued its demands even when he was immersed in the complexities of surgery. He hung his coat on the coatrack, and placed his wallet and keys on the entrance table.

Zayne approached the trash bin, He grasped the full bag, its edges crinkling as he pulled it free with practiced ease, and tossed it into the receptacle outside. Next, he moved into the kitchen, where the sight of unwashed dishes greeted him. He rolled up his sleeves, the movement fluid and purposeful, as he began to scrub the plates and utensils. Each stroke of the sponge was precise, a reflection of his meticulous nature, and as he worked, he found a rhythm that helped quiet the cacophony of the day’s events.

Once the kitchen was tidy again, he continued deeper into the house, the soft light spilling from the bedroom illuminating his path. As he entered the room, a flicker of a smile graced his lips. There you were, resting on the bed, a serene vision that brought warmth to his weary heart. Seeing you, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, a stark contrast to the intensity of the operating room. In that moment, the day’s exhaustion melted away, replaced by the comfort of home and the joy of your presence.

“Hello my love, I’m home.”