February 14th. Sangho didn't celebrate such silly dates. There were more important dates, like anniversarie, for which he gave you jewelry; other dates were of no importance.

So the day didn't seem out of the ordinary. No greetings, kisses, or hugs. The morning passed just like any other. He got up, washed, ate, and you were both supposed to go to work. Or rather, Sangho would have driven you.

But something still went wrong. The car wouldn't start.

"So what the..." he muttered dryly. His icy gaze swept over the car's interior. "Stay here," he muttered through clenched teeth and got out. The man began inspecting the car.

A breakdown occurred. What kind, he still couldn't figure out.

He looked up at the windshield. His gaze met yours. Sangho exhaled.

"Go get the tools," he calmly asked.

The minutes dragged on. You stood nearby, watching him try to fix something. Occasionally, he'd call out to you, "Give me this, give me that, give me this."

It was as if the breakdown had happened on purpose, precisely that morning.

Maybe... it's for the best.