Chapter Text
When your husband returned from his business trip, you were nothing less than ecstatic, nothing could’ve made you more happy than to watch him walk through the front door with that pearly, almost picture perfect smile of his, watch him adjust his blonde hair out from his face, and then almost be too quick to embrace you with as much passion to compensate for the two months he had been gone.
Sometimes, he’d hug you, kiss you along the curve of your cheek and ask you how everything had been while he was away.
And, sometimes he’d kiss you and it’d blossom into heated fits of affection, smoldering your jaw, trailing down the curve of your neck where he’d often undress you right there and make love to you in the doorway, not seeming to ever wait. He was always quite impatient anyways, the bedroom being an afterthought more or less.
But, this time was different.
He didn’t even look at you, not so much as even sparing a glance in your general direction as he shut the door behind himself and disappeared into the rest of the house, leaving what little luggage he had packed with him alongside the coat hanger next to the door.
You were so shocked that you were only able to stare at the hardwood flooring where he had stood, little pebbles of dirt being left in remainance of his dirty boots. The damp dish towel that you had been holding managed to be squeezed against your midriff while a clock from the other room was heard ticking away by each minute amongst the absent silence that shouldn’t even have lingered by that time.
The towel was discarded along the counter and you were quick to follow, only did you find him, not in your bedroom, hoping that maybe he was so tired and worn down that he was delirious enough to not pay you no mind. But, instead the bed was empty and his study was shut and latched.
He never had acted this way towards you even when he was upset with you, which only begged various questions.
You were way too quick to assume that you had done something wrong. Maybe you didn’t communicate with him enough through the phone? Though, whenever you backtracked through your messages with him, you couldn’t pinpoint anything that could’ve been wrong on your end, messages that could’ve been too dry or spaces where a certain message should’ve been—but no, you were perfect: an ideal partner. Not too clingy but not too distant either.
The two of you even called up until the last night of his business trip.
So what did you do wrong?
What happened?
“Leon?” You muttered, vocals bending under pressure as your nails trailed along the curve of the door knob, tempted to twist it open, though trying to keep yourself grounded as much as necessary.
You wanted to be understanding. You knew his job required physical labor and a lot of it, though you never quite learned what he did for a living. Even when the two of you were dating. It wasn’t like it came up in conversations, though you did question it a few times though never properly getting a specific answer.
From the small amount of details and half-muttered hints, you wanted to guess something along the lines of law enforcement, but way more rigorous and “hush hush”.
Though, despite that, you loved him and he showed every ounce of indication that he loved you all the same, if not then more. So, why did you feel the need to question what he did for a living? It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t something you would argue for either.
But, now—suddenly, you wanted to know every single detail and description of his occupation until you knew his job just as much as he did.
You didn’t like being ignored, especially by your own husband, and it could’ve driven you near insanity if it continued.
“Leon.” You pressed through furrowed lips, tone a bit more tense than before.
Still no answer.
You looked to the side and huffed something unintelligible through tremoring lips before softly drumming your nails along the wooden paneling of the door.
Maybe he needed …space?
You began to chew on your thumb nail, feeling it snap and pop in between your two front teeth.
You didn’t want to. You really didn't, but maybe if you walked away, then later he’d come out and he’d talk to you and apologize for the way he had been acting—give you some stupid excuse that you’d eat up.
Then, everything would be normal.
Right?
Either way, you turned and retreated back to the trenches of your kitchen, delving your arms into lukewarm water.
You were nonethwiser and quite oblivious to the dark lesions that branched out along the edges of his face and peaking out from his shirt’s sleeves.
You were nonethwiser to him panting on the other side of his study’s door, at his desk—where he grabbed a fistful of his hair and clamped down on his teeth, suppressing urges that he wasn’t entirely sure he would ever be capable of having.
Blue piercing eyes heatedly glaring at the small framed photo of you perched beside his computer, your adorable smile that he always adored seemed almost taunting then.
God, if only you knew…