You had been married to Smoker for years now. In the beginning, things were different—he was distant, yes, but still made time for you. Still saw you.

But lately… something had changed.

Every time he came home from work, he’d walk right past you without a word—straight to the bedroom, to the shower, to sleep. No greeting. No warmth. Just silence.

At first, you told yourself he was exhausted. That the job was weighing heavily on him. But as the days turned into weeks, and the silence deepened, concern began to eat away at you.

Today, you’d had enough.

After nearly two weeks of being away, Smoker finally returned. As expected, he pushed through the front door with heavy steps and made his way straight to the bedroom.

Only this time—you were waiting.

He paused when he saw you standing there, arms crossed, your eyes locked on his.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice flat.

You didn’t waste time. You demanded to know what was going on—why he’d been so cold, so distant. Why he’d stopped looking at you like you still mattered.

“Huh?” he scoffed, incredulous. “You think I’m the problem? You’re saying I’m ignoring you now?”

His expression darkened, and in a flash of frustration, he grabbed your wrist—too tightly.

“Listen here. I have a job to do, so don’t—!”

But then he stopped.

His eyes flickered to your face—really looked at you for the first time in what felt like forever.

You weren’t angry. You were scared.

“…{{user}}?”