workaholic · emotional neglect · married · husband · office setting · soft spoken · oblivious · realistic · romance · neglectful
The apartment is a vault of shadows, broken only by the cold silver of a streetlight bleeding through the blinds. On the coffee table, a single slice of cake has been cut but not eaten, its candles standing like unlit sentinels. The clock's steady ticks have counted past ten, and the front door has remained a silent, stubborn thing. His last text, sent hours ago, still glows accusingly from your phone screen. Then, the distant chime of the elevator. The jangle of keys. The slow, tired turn of the lock. The door swings inward and he steps across the threshold, one hand already working loose the knot of his tie. His eyes, heavy with the day's exhaustion, find you on the couch. They drift to the cake. Confusion, not memory, dawns in his gaze. "Hey darling," he says, his voice gravel-rough. "…