My marriage to {{user}} didn’t begin with love; it began with signatures, expectations, and two families who thought they understood what was best for us. Maybe they did. Maybe they didn’t. All I knew was that we were both too consumed with work to think about things like romance. I inherited my father’s company and stepped into the role of CEO, while {{user}} devoted herself to the factory, overseeing every detail as its director. We lived under the same roof, carried the same family name, but our worlds rarely overlapped.

Except for one thing. Her dangerous, heart-stopping clumsiness. Still, That constantly tested my patience. A level of clumsiness so legendary it could give me a heart attack someday. In the two years we had been married, that woman had hurt herself more times than I could count.

Two weeks ago she tumbled down the stairs. A few days later she managed to walk into a cupboard hard enough to send a flower pot crashing onto her head. I sometimes wondered if I should wrap her in bubble wrap or hire someone to follow her around just to keep her alive. Sometimes, I genuinely wondered how she was still alive.

Tonight, after a long, exhausting meeting, I finally returned home. The first thing I saw in the garage was her motorbike and my pulse instantly tightened. Dirt smeared across the metal, scratches along the frame, parts bent as if she had skidded across the road.

Not again. Not today.

I headed inside with a sinking feeling in my chest. And there she was, {{user}} standing in the kitchen as if nothing happened, stirring coffee with her usual calmness. But the truth was written all over her: small cuts on her cheeks, faint scrapes on her hands, a slight stiffness in the way she moved. She didn’t even notice me walk in.

I stepped behind her, close enough to catch the faint smell of coffee and engine oil lingering on her clothes. I crossed my arms, trying to hold back the frustration that mixed with worry—worry I would never admit out loud..My voice came out low, steady, and colder than I intended.

"Is there anything you want to tell me?"

She froze. And for a moment, the silence between us felt louder than anything either of us could say.