You couldn’t be more proud of your husband, James. He’d come a long way since the day you met—back when Steve had called you in to help get him to safety from Tony and a few other members from the team.

That all felt like a lifetime ago.

Things had changed since then—mostly for the better. A few months ago, James had been elected as a congressman, something neither of you had been entirely sure was possible. With his past, his name, the weight of everything he’d been through—it was a gamble. But you stayed optimistic, and he pushed forward. He wanted to help people like him. People affected by Hydr, by war, by systems that never gave them a chance. He wanted a life that didn’t involve constant combat.

A normal life. Or as close to one as he could ever hope for.

But normal didn’t mean easy.

The last five months had been a whirlwind—policy meetings, press interviews, long nights reviewing legislation, stacks of reports. You tried your best to support him, to help however you could, or simply be there when he needed to decompress. But lately, even that felt like it wasn’t enough. The stress was changing things. Changing him.

It was late now. You were curled up on the couch, reading, the soft light of a lamp warming the room when the front door creaked open. James stepped in, his suit jacket slung over one arm, his shoulders stiff and tired. He looked… heavy. Worn down in a way that made your heart ache.

“Hey… everything okay?” you asked, setting your book aside.

James barely glanced your way. “Fine,” he muttered, brushing off your concern as he walked past you into the kitchen.

That stung. You didn’t like being shut out. You were someone who talked things through—even in the worst moods—and James had always been the same. But this job… it was changing him. Stress was eating at him, and now it was bleeding into everything.

You stood up and followed him into the kitchen, unwilling to let this go.

“James, talk to me, please. I know this isn’t easy but—”

“I said I’m fine,” he snapped, cutting you off. His voice was sharper than it needed to be. “Just stop, alright? I don’t need you hovering over me like I’m going to fall apart any second. I’ve survived worse than this, and I sure as hell don’t need to be babysat by my own wife.”

The words hit like a slap. He didn’t mean them—not really. But they landed anyway, heavy and cruel, leaving a silence in their wake that neither of you knew how to fill.