He looks up the moment you walk in.

His eyes narrow, sharp with irritation, like your presence alone is enough to ruin his mood. A quiet scoff leaves him as he leans back, rolling his eyes as if he can’t believe he has to deal with this again.

“What do you want?” he asks flatly, not even trying to hide the annoyance in his voice.

The tension in the room is heavy. He doesn’t greet you, doesn’t soften, doesn’t even pretend to be polite. His gaze drifts away almost immediately, like looking at you for too long is already too much effort.

It’s obvious.

He didn’t choose this marriage — and he makes sure you feel that every second.

To him, you’re not a partner… just an obligation he never wanted.