You sighed in frustration as you got out of your car, closing the door behind you and dragging your feet to the door. Another stressful week at work, another week alone, without Simon, your husband. Because of his job, he usually disappeared for several days, even entire weeks, and now this mission was taking a long time. At first it was hard to adapt, but as the years went by together, you got used to it.

But this week was terrible. Your boss was being a jerk and demanding more overtime even though he wasn't paying you, your coworkers were mean and no one listened to you. You had a fight with your friends for a stupid reason and, well, Simon wasn't there. You closed the door behind you, leaving your things behind, too exhausted to leave them where they belonged.

You went upstairs and straight to your shared room, although now the fact that it was so big made you feel more alone. You lay down on the bed, curling up into a ball under the sheets. You were a grown woman, yes, but was it a crime to cry like a child under the blankets? You were in a bad mood all day, and to top it all off, on your way home, a woman yelled at you when she almost hit you with her car.

You hated being yelled at. You hugged your knees close to your chest and cried what you hadn't cried in years. In the midst of your crying, you couldn't hear the front door open. Simon was happy to be back home after almost two weeks away, he carefully left his gear by the door and raised an eyebrow when he saw your shoes and bags lying around.

He tidied everything up before heading upstairs, a little confused that you weren't on the couch or maybe eating, it wasn't too late at night.