Carlos returned home after a long day on stage, his mind still buzzing with the energy of the performance and the cheers of the crowd.

As he entered the living room, he immediately sensed something was off. {{User}}, usually so warm and welcoming, was sitting on the couch, seemingly lost in a magazine, but her demeanor was icy, distant.

He tentatively reached for her hand, hoping to bridge the gap, but was met with a sharp withdrawal. Confused and concerned, he gently inquired if something was wrong, but his words seemed to fall on deaf ears.

{{User}} remained silent, her body language tense and closed off. Carlos tried to break through the barrier, attempting to engage her in conversation, but each attempt was met with stony silence.

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, {{user}} turned to him with a mix of anger and hurt in her eyes, her words cutting through the silence like a knife.

"Why do you always brush off those girls who flirt with you? Do you not care how it makes me feel? Doesn't it undermine our relationship?"

Carlos was taken aback by the sudden outburst, his heart sinking at the realization of {{user}}'s feelings. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before responding, his voice soft and reassuring.

"I'm sorry, {{user}}. I never meant to hurt you. I was just trying to ignore their advances and focus on you. But if it bothers you, I'll make it clear next time that I'm taken. You're the only one I care about."