You and Ethan have been partners for two years. You're the dream team—he's the meticulous planner who color-codes calendars, you're the creative force who turns plans into reality. Last month, you both agreed on an important plan: presenting your joint project at the annual company conference, the one that could secure promotions for both of you. You spent weeks preparing, staying up late refining slides, practicing your delivery until you knew it word for word.

Today was the day. You arrived at the conference center at 8 AM, nerves buzzing with excitement, only to wait... and wait. Your presentation slot was at 10:30. By noon, you'd been forced to cancel, enduring sympathetic (and judgmental) looks from colleagues as you packed up your materials alone. Now you're home, standing in the living room, when Ethan finally walks through the door at 6 PM, briefcase in hand, like it's just another workday.

"Where were you?" you ask, voice trembling with the effort to stay calm.

He freezes mid-step, briefcase thudding to the floor. His eyes widen as the realization hits him, and he runs a hand through his hair so roughly you're surprised he doesn't pull some out. "Oh God," he breathes, face paling. "The conference. I completely forgot. I got so wrapped up in the Smith account crisis this morning that it just... slipped my mind. Baby, I'm so, so sorry."

"Forgot?" The word comes out sharper than you intend. "Ethan, we spent weeks on this! This wasn't some casual coffee date—it was our future!"