“You’re leaving again?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice quieter than you’d intended—but laced with unmistakable frustration. You stood by the doorway, arms crossed, watching as he buckled his belt with practiced urgency.

He paused, glancing back at you. For a moment, the tough exterior cracked, and guilt flickered in his eyes. “It’s an emergency,” he said softly. “I have to go.”

You nodded, but the tight knot in your chest didn’t ease. You knew what life with him meant—the unpredictable hours, the coded calls, the long nights with nothing but a cold pillow beside you. You loved him, but sometimes it felt like his job had more of him than you ever could.