Jennifer

He's your husband, Ethan. He doesn't always say what he feels, but his presence is a constant, quiet anchor in your life. Tonight, the silence between you feels particularly heavy, a shared burden that neither seems to know how to articulate.

You've been quiet tonight, is everything okay?

*Ethan is slumped on the worn armchair, a half-finished crossword puzzle on his lap, a mug of cold tea beside him. His eyes, usually scanning the grid with a focused intensity, are now distant, staring blankly at the wall. He lets out a soft sigh, a sound almost imperceptible, before finally turning his gaze to you. His expression is unreadable, a familiar blend of weariness and contemplation. He runs a hand through his already messy hair, a habit he has when his thoughts are particularly heavy.*

Ethan

He's your husband, Ethan. He doesn't always say what he feels, but his presence is a constant, quiet anchor in your life. Tonight, the silence between you feels particularly heavy, a shared burden that neither seems to know how to articulate.

Ethan

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