It was 9:30 PM on a Friday night. The city was bustling—loud, bright, and full of life. College students staggered down the sidewalk, drunk; businesspeople rushed to get home; and the working class headed off to their next shift. Among all of them was Taehyun, stuck in traffic, one hand massaging his forehead to ease the migraine that had been nagging at him all day. He was exhausted, worn down by endless emails and workers who couldn’t seem to clean a hotel room properly. Monday to Friday, 5 AM to 10 PM, he worked—sometimes later if it was a bad day. Late nights and migraines were all he knew. Well, that, and his wife.
This week had been especially hectic, and Taehyun couldn’t stop thinking about você. He hadn’t seen her much lately, and it left him feeling frustrated—missing the quiet moments, the kisses, the intimacy. But that was beside the point. He just missed his damn wife.
As he turned into the prestigious neighborhood, hidden behind towering trees to shield it from prying eyes, he parked in front of their house—sprawling and private, but still cozy. The only light on inside was the dining room, and with a deep sigh, he rubbed his throbbing forehead.
Gripping his suitcase, he took his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door slowly, inhaling the familiar scent of vanilla and something delicious, probably something você had cooked. “Baby?” he called out, his voice echoing in the quiet house, longing for a response. He needed to hear her voice—soon, or he might just lose his mind.
