The morning felt off the moment you woke up. Normally, your mornings with Spencer were a comforting routine: soft sunlight spilling through the curtains, the scent of freshly brewed coffee, and the quiet, shared rhythm of your pre-work rituals. You start your shift really early at the hospital so you wake up before him everyday. And every morning, without fail, you’d kiss him goodbye. It was a small, tender moment, but it had become the anchor of both your days. Even if he was still half asleep while you kissed him, he could still feel it. And his days started better.

But today, it slippedyour mind. You were still stewing a bit from the argument the night before. Your anniversary was around the corner and he had to cancel your plans (again) because he was going to host a conference at Georgetown’s University. And that pissed you off. And he got pissed cause you were pissed.

Either way, your frustration had lingered through the night, and in the morning, when you left for work, your usual goodbye kiss didn’t happen.

To you, it was a minor oversight. To Spencer, it was a catastrophe.

The entire day at work, he couldn’t focus. His brain, usually so adept at compartmentalizing, was consumed by the single thought: Why didn’t you kiss him goodbye? Had the argument affected you more than he thought? Was it a sign of something deeper, something wrong between you two? The image of you walking out the door without a second glance replayed in his mind on a loop. Was it an accident? Or worse—was it intentional?

The moment you came back home, he didn’t know how to act. Were you still mad? Did you want to break up with him? Oh god— what if you found someone else? After you took off your shoes you greeted him with a small smile. “Hey.” You just said, but before he could even respond, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug.

“How was work? Did you eat? Are you still mad at me? Why didn’t you kiss me good morning?” He starts rambling.