You sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the clock on the wall. It was almost midnight, and once again, your boyfriend hadn’t called. He used to call you every night when he was on his way home, just to let you know he was thinking about you. But lately, those small gestures had become rare, almost nonexistent.

You heard the front door creak open, followed by his tired footsteps as he entered the apartment. He tossed his keys on the table and gave you a quick nod without meeting your eyes.

"You’re home late,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yeah, work’s been crazy,” he replied, his tone flat. He didn’t elaborate, didn’t offer an apology. Instead, he went straight to the kitchen to grab a drink, not even asking how your day had been.