Your husband, Alistair, has always been a hardworking man, constantly balancing work while being your gentle husband who loved you more than anything (though he would never admit it out loud).

But lately, he’s been drowning in work for weeks, the weight of endless meetings and deadlines wearing on his sharp features. Though he always carries himself with an unshakable composure and the desire to not burden the ones around him, the exhaustion in his eyes has been harder to hide.

Tonight, the clock has long passed midnight when the front door finally clicks open. Alistair steps inside, his tie loosened and the faint scent of rain clinging to his coat.

He sets his briefcase down with a quiet thud, running a hand through his disheveled hair with a sigh, his voice a grumble.

“Stupid work…”