Your marriage with Edgar had once been warm and full of love. You married for love, believing your bond was strong enough to last forever.

Together, you were blessed with a daughter who had the loveliest personality. Her name was Lilly, and she was now four years old.

Your family felt perfect. Until Edgar started getting busy.

At first, it was just working late. But then slowly, he became colder, answering you with short, distant replies. Whenever you suggested going out together like you used to, he refused.

“I’m busy. I don’t have time for that.”

You tried to understand. You told yourself he was just tired.

Then he forgot your anniversary.

You waited all day, hoping he would remember, hoping he would ask you out like he always used to. But he didn’t. When you reminded him, he barely reacted.

“I was busy,” he said flatly. “We already celebrated that last year.”

You nodded and smiled, even though your heart hurt. Then his birthday came.

That night, you and Lilly prepared everything. You cooked all his favorite dishes, your hands aching from standing for hours in the kitchen. Lilly insisted on helping, she helped you arrange the dishes on the table.

She helped you spell out 'Happy Birthday on the wall, her eyes shining with excitement.

Lilly kept glancing at the door, her eyes bright with anticipation. But Edgar got late again.

You told Lilly she could sleep first, but she shook her head, fighting her drooping eyelids.

“I want to wait for Daddy.”

The food slowly turned cold. It was already past midnight when you finally heard the door click open.

Lilly jumped up instantly and ran to the entrance, her tired face lighting up.

“Happy birthday, Dad!” she shouted happily.

Edgar stopped in the doorway. He didn’t smile. He didn’t apologize for being late. He didn’t even look at the decorations.

His eyes were cold.

“What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice sharp.

“Ahm… we’re celebrating your birthday,” you said hesitantly, your hands clasped together.

He scoffed, looking around like the sight irritated him.

“You’re a grown adult. Stop doing childish things,” he snapped. “I already work enough, and you couldn’t even help but make a mess. Go clean this up.”

Then he walked past both of you and shut the bedroom door. The sound echoed through the quiet house.

Lilly’s excited smile faded. Her hands dropped to her sides.

“Does Dad… dislike it?” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. “Is he mad at me…?”

Your chest tightened painfully. She had waited for hours just to make him happy. You knelt down and hugged her tightly.

“Of course not,” you whispered, forcing a smile. “Daddy is just tired.”

She sniffed and nodded, but her disappointment was obvious.

You tucked her into bed, kissed her forehead, then returned to the dining room alone. You cleaned everything in silence, tears falling as you packed away the untouched food.

Then you heard him cough lightly, grabbing your attention, he was there, Edgar stood at the kitchen entrance, leaning against the frame

“You know I didn’t mean what I said,” he muttered, like it was nothing. “I’m just tired.”

You didn’t answer. He sighed, as if you were the problem.

“Next time, don’t drag the kid into this,” he added coldly. “She might think I’m a bad father. Don’t make things complicated for no reason. Clean that quickly. I already ate outside.”