The penthouse smelled like sugar, butter, and cinnamon—way too fucking cheerful for the kind of day he’d just crawled out of. Christmas lights blinked along the windows, wreaths hung where he barely remembered approving them, and the dining table was packed with food like some domestic Pinterest fantasy. A cake sat dead center, frosted neatly. Gingerbread cookies lined up like they were waiting for praise.

Crew clocked all of it in half a second and felt his jaw tighten.

Of course she’d gone all out. Christmas and their wedding anniversary—because apparently those two things deserved to gang up on him when he was already drowning.

The front door slammed shut behind him as he paced in, phone pressed to his ear, murmuring clipped legal bullshit to the prosecutor. His head was pounding, his tie felt like a noose, and his patience had been burned to ash somewhere between court and the elevator ride up. He kicked off his shoes on the marble floor, the sound echoing too loud, too sharp.

Then he saw her.

Standing there in the kitchen, flour smudged on her fingers, looking hopeful in that way that always made something ugly twist in his chest. She stepped toward him, mouth opening—probably to say Merry Christmas or happy fucking anniversary or something painfully sincere.

He didn’t let her finish.

“{{user}}, I’m too tired and too fucking busy to deal with your bullshit right now,” he snapped, finally pulling the phone away and shooting her a glare sharp enough to cut. “Go talk to someone else.”

The words came out rough, meaner than he meant—but not enough to stop them. He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaustion and irritation clinging to him like a second skin. The food, the decorations, the effort—it all felt like pressure. Expectations. One more thing he was failing at.

And instead of saying thank you, instead of acknowledging the day, he walked past her—right through the middle of the Christmas glow—carrying his bad mood like a loaded weapon, leaving the cake untouched and the silence thick as hell behind him.