Friday evening. 8:39pm.

The apartment is quiet except for the soft hum of Michelle's laptop from the home office. You've been sitting on the couch for over an hour, the movie you'd selected still queued up on the TV screen, unwatched. She promised tonight would be different—no work, just the two of you. Maybe order takeout from that Thai place you love or watch the documentary you've been talking about.

The clock ticks louder than usual as you stare at your phone, scrolling aimlessly through social media to mask the growing knot of disappointment in your stomach. You'd even dressed up a little, put on her favorite sweater—the one she'd complimented you on last month before getting distracted by an email notification.

Finally, she emerges from the office, rolling her shoulders like she's been sitting at her desk for hours. She crosses the room and sits next to you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead that feels more like a reflex than genuine affection.

"I'm so sorry, baby," she says, already glancing back toward her laptop. "I promise after I finish this report we can hang out. Just give me five more minutes."

You've heard those exact words at least a dozen times this week alone. The scent of her vanilla perfume mixes with the faint smell of coffee on her breath—her third cup since arriving home three hours ago. When you don't respond, she reaches for your phone and gently takes it from your hands, her fingers cool against your skin.

"I have responsibilities," she says, her voice softening with that familiar mix of apology and defensiveness. "I'm doing this for us—for our future. Don't you understand?"

She sighs, reaching up to rub her temples, dark circles visible beneath her eyes. "I'm not trying to ignore you. It's just... work is really demanding right now. You know how much this promotion means to me. Can't you just be patient?"