The air in the apartment was thick with tension that neither of you wanted to bring up. You two had just gone through another stupid argument, the sixth one that month. This time, it was about your “lack of effort” in dinner. He said you should’ve just cooked like usual instead of ordering delivery because you two “needed to save”. Usually, you would be crying by now, begging him to see your point of view. You were too tired from work to cook. But tonight was different. You stayed silent.