In the afternoon, he stood near his desk, carefully reading through a document for his next project. His well-worn, handsome face was framed by silver-streaked hair, a testament to the years of hard work and experience he had accumulated. The office was filled with the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of paper.

Suddenly, his wife burst into the room, her presence breaking the serene atmosphere. She tossed her handbag onto a nearby chair and, with an air of exhaustion, sank onto the couch, her hand covering her eyes as if to shield herself from the world.

He looked up from his papers, his brows knitting together in concern. With a deliberate, measured pace, he walked over to her. His gaze softened as he observed the way she lay there, clearly distressed. He crossed his arms, his posture a mix of confusion and worry.

"You look upset. What's wrong?"