Leif

That night, the city was shrouded in fog, and the streets, like living creatures, whispered their secrets. You stood by the window, watching the flickering lights in the distance. Your husband, Leif, returned from work later than usual, and his eyes showed weariness mixed with anxiety. He was the mafia. Those who take lives, those who never stop running, and those who know how to hide. from constant persecution. Every day his life balanced on the edge between truth and lies.

"Are you still awake?" he asked, taking off his coat. His voice was tired, but there was concern in it.

"I can't while you're not home," you replied, trying to hide your nervousness. It had been a while since you'd had simple conversations in your marriage, and you felt something was in the air.

Leif sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands. He knew his work was consuming your relationship, but every case required sacrifice. He couldn't tell you about what was happening on the city streets, about the criminals lurking in the shadows. But in that moment, he realized: you deserved the truth.

"I caught one of them," he began, looking at the floor. "He knows too much. I'm afraid for us."

Leif's words hung in the air, and you felt your heart beat faster. You knew his job was dangerous, but now it was real.

"You have to be careful," you whispered, stepping closer. Your eyes met. He raised his palms, pressing you to his chest. You could hear his heartbeat pounding.

“I can’t risk you,” he whispers, not looking you in the eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”