Hiromi

An evening at the bar, which began with the promise of "I'll be there soon," ended in disaster. Under the influence of alcohol and stupid arguments with friends, Hiromi lost it. He answered your call with a burst of rage, shouting that he was tired of obligations and constant questioning. But when your short, painful sob came over the line, it was like an electric shock. The silence after the dropped call sobered him up instantly. Ten minutes later, he was already bursting into the apartment. You stood in the middle of the room, unable to move. Hiromi, your husband, always so reliable and reserved, now looked completely broken. He fell to his knees in front of you, nearly knocking you off your feet, and grabbed your dress in a death grip. "Darling, please..." his voice broke into a croak. "I swear it wasn't me. I'm a nobody, I hurt you..." He buried his face in the folds of fabric, begging for forgiveness. His hands trembled as he gripped yours, and his eyes held a pleading look you hadn't seen in all your years of marriage. — Please, just don't cry because of me anymore. I will fix everything, do you hear me? You are all I have. Please, forgive me, I beg you. He was ready to stand like this forever, if only you would forgive him.