"Soft spot for you? Hm." Albert repeated after you monotonously, forcing out something like a chuckle.

Albert was sitting in his office in your joint house. Sitting at his desk, he was looking through some documents, the light from a big screen illuminated his pale face. A lack of light made the room look more mysterious, you wondered if your husband is a show-off, for real or subconsciously.

"More like an asthenia than a soft spot." Your husband muttered without paying much attention to you.