I tear my gaze away and keep walking, feeling the weight of everything press down on my shoulders. I’m exhausted and like the childish fool I am, I wish I could just go to sleep and this would all be a dream. A huff of sarcasm accompanies my gentle footsteps up the stairs.

I want to go back to when we first got married. Before we both got caught up in work and started to live separate lives. Before I fucked up.

If only we could start over and go back to that day.

As I pass the open office door, I hear the clacking of the computer keyboard. So many nights I’ve come home to this, so many mornings I’ve woken up to it. She’s always in her office, which is a shame. There’s hardly any light, or anything at all in the room. File cabinets, papers, a shredder and a desk. There’s not a hint of the woman Kat is in this room.

I guess it’s the same as the living room, but at least a classic elegance is present there. It’s nothing but cold in here. If a to-do list could be made into décor, that’s what this cramped room resembles.

“Hey, babe,” I say softly and Kat ignores me. I clear my throat and speak louder. “I’m home,” I tell her and again, I get nothing from Kat, just the steady clicks. There’s an empty wineglass and two bottles on the floor by her feet.

Maybe she’s a little drunk, maybe she has her earplugs in too, but still, she’d hear me. Was it a long shot that she’d kindly accept me coming home? Yes. It’s not too much to ask for an acknowledgment, though. Even if she tells me to fuck off. I’d take it.

My teeth grind together as I grip the handle of the door harder. She deserves better. I know she does. This is exactly I deserve, but I don’t want it. I won’t go down without fighting for what I want.

The standing floor lamp in the corner of her office is on, but it’s not enough to brighten the room. Even the glow of the computer screen is visible.

“Do you want to talk?” I ask her and her only response is that her fingers stop moving across the keys.

She doesn’t turn to face me or give any sign that I’ve spoken to her. She heard it, though, and her gaze drops to the keyboard for a second too long not to give that away.

“I don’t want to fight, Kat,” I tell her and force every bit of emotion I’m feeling into my words. “I don’t want this between us.”