Miguel wasn’t a good husband.

He wasn’t awful, sure; but he wasn’t great — not by a long shot. He was just so distant and careless, buried in his monitors and missions all day. Ignoring you like you weren’t his spouse. It was the loneliest you’d ever felt. And after so many depressing days, empty nights, and conversations with your lawyer Mark, the truth had settled.

This needed to end.

Ring missing from your finger, the cold air of his lair breezed over your skin as you entered, briskly making your way up onto his platform.

Miguel didn’t even turn toward you when you entered, as usual. You were only greeted with the familiar sight of his unmoving broad back as he released a harsh sigh. “Por díos, {{user}}. I thought I told you not to come in here while I was working.”

You didn’t respond. At first, anyway. After a moment’s hesitation, you silently laid the papers in his hand.

He stopped in his tracks, furrowing his brow and examining the documents. His eyes flashed as he realized the contents, his lip curling back to show his fangs. Miguel’s voice rang out, cold as ice.

“{{user}}. What is this?”