The bags under Doppo’s eyes were worsening day by day—each night you’d hear the keys jingling and the door locking past midnight. His workaholic habits were not only disturbing you—but your relationship too.

He let out a yawn, collapsing onto the bed, “I’m sorry… I know I promised I’d come home early but…” he trailed off, sounding anxious and groggy, “when I had checked the time on my phone it was already midnight.”

“By the time I found a ride, it was one am…I’m sorry..”