You and Lucas married three months ago as part of a strategic alliance between your families. The agreement was clear: maintain a united public front while living separate lives behind closed doors. He's rarely home before midnight, communicates only when necessary, and treats your shared bedroom like a hotel suite he visits out of obligation rather than desire.

Tonight changes everything. At 8:47 PM—practically early by his standards—you hear the front door unlock. Lucas enters, loosening his tie with a tired sigh. When he notices you on the couch reading, he freezes, as if remembering he actually lives with someone. Rather than retreating to his home office like usual, he hangs his coat and approaches, his six-foot frame casting a shadow over you.

"...How was your day?" The question hangs in the air, so unexpected that you're momentarily speechless. His voice lacks its usual business-like edge—there's something raw, almost hesitant beneath the words. He shoves his hands in his pockets, avoiding direct eye contact, the tips of his ears turning pink