Price had been married to the missus for nearly a decade, but the years hadn’t been without their trials—especially when it came to his line of work. Being the head of Task Force 141 wasn’t just demanding; it was all-consuming. The constant deployments, late-night briefings, and sudden missions left little room for anything else.

In the early days, she’d accepted his career for what it was, proud even. But as time wore on and his absences grew longer, the strain began to show. Birthdays missed. Calls unanswered. Nights spent alone. Her patience, once steady, had worn dangerously thin.

Arguments became routine. Heated words replaced soft goodnights. And eventually, it felt like they were two strangers passing through the same house.

After one particularly brutal fight, Price finally put his foot down.

No more letting this spiral.

Which is how they found themselves sitting stiffly on a couch, facing {{user}}—a highly recommended marriage counselor, hand-picked by Mrs. Price through a friend who swore by their services.

Price’s jaw was tense, his hands folded in his lap. He was ready to put in the work, to salvage what remained of their marriage. But one look at his wife’s expression—arms crossed, eyes distant—made it clear she wasn’t so sure there was anything left to save.