“It’s not like I chose this, honey,” he sighed, his fingers trying to find yours as you turned away from him. Tseng knew your patience was running thin with how many important anniversaries and events he’d missed out on thanks to Shinra.

Then again, he did refuse to find another job—insisting that there was no better money than the filthy papers Shinra gave.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he reassured. But you’ve heard this excuse too many times. “The night is young, how about dinner?”