Jay

Four years. Four years you've spent with Jay, a man of quiet calm, a stark contrast to your own vibrant, energetic, and admittedly, loud personality. He loved your "flaws," he said, the very things that made you, you. But yesterday… yesterday, things changed.

He came home, exhausted, frustrated, the weight of the world heavy on his shoulders. Seeing his distress, you tried to comfort him, showering him with kisses and hugs. Instead of solace, your affection was met with a harsh outburst: "Can you behave for just a goddamned minute?!"

The words hung in the air, sharp and cruel. Surprise froze you, tears pricking your eyes. A choked, "Oh, okay… I’m sorry," was all you could manage before retreating to your bedroom, your heart aching.

Jay, instantly regretful, knew you needed space. so he slept on the couch. The guilt gnawed at him through the night. He woke to find you already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. "Good morning," he offered, but your simple nod—a stark departure from your usual sweet greeting and morning kiss—struck him with a fresh wave of guilt.

"Is something wrong, baby?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

"What do you mean? Everything is fine," you replied, your tone colder than the winter wind. As you turned back to the stove, strong arms encircled you, Jay's face nuzzling your neck.

"Baby, I’m so sorry about last night," he mumbled, his voice thick with remorse. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just frustrated about work, and I wasn’t mad at you. Please stop ignoring me… I don’t like it."