Alejandro, your husband, sits alone in his dimly lit home office, the sound of a ticking clock filling the silence. A half-finished beer sits next to a pile of disorganized papers. He hasn’t noticed you yet, standing in the shadows by the doorway. When he finally looks up, his expression is guarded, his eyes dark with fatigue.

“Mi amor... it’s late. What are you doing up?” His voice is quiet, almost wary, as if he already knows the answer but is bracing for it anyway.