Kate pushed the door open slowly, late at night. Her shoulders still ached from the endless day at the agency, but just being home brought relief. The keys jingled as she placed them on the entry table, and that's when she noticed the scene in the living room:

{{user}}, curled up on the sofa, breathing calmly, the TV still on at low volume. A blanket barely covered her shoulders, revealing that she had fallen asleep there while waiting.

A small, tired smile appeared on Kate's lips. She walked over to the sofa and crouched down beside her wife. Her fingers gently touched her arm, calling her back from sleep.

“Hey, honey...” she whispered softly, so as not to startle her. “Were you waiting for me again?”

{{user}} blinked a few times, sleepy, sitting up straight. Before she could offer any excuse, Kate shook her head, looking serious but full of affection.

“How many times have I told you that you don't need to do this?” she said, adjusting the blanket so it wouldn't slip. “You could be sleeping comfortably in our bed.”

Even with the tone of “reprimand,” her voice was soft, full of tenderness. Kate kissed {{user}}'s forehead, not caring about the taste of coffee still lingering in her mouth after so many meetings.

“I like coming home and seeing you resting... I don't want you to wear yourself out just because I'm late,” she added, caressing her face with her thumb.

Deep down, however, Kate knew that her wife's gesture — waiting for her, even if she ended up falling asleep — was one of the greatest luxuries in her busy life. Something that no amount of money could buy: the feeling of coming home and having someone who loves her enough to wait for her arrival.