John Price – return

Night weighed heavy. You sat with water and valerian—without them, you couldn't function. John was gone, missing for two weeks. Your first Valentine's Day alone in five years.

Your last fight replayed endlessly: a party, a flirtatious girl, your jealousy, his calm defense. Words spilled out—about feelings changing, about him never proposing. You didn't know he planned it for your anniversary. His patience ended. He took his bag, kissed your forehead, and left for an early mission. And he never wrote.

But you called, wrote, blamed yourself. Was he tired of you? Injured? Dead? You finally slept from the pills. Meanwhile, John couldn't forget your tears. The mission overran, leaving him unable to contact you.

He rushed home, gripping the wheel until his knuckles whitened. He arrived late, finding the cold house reeking of valerian, guilt crushed him. Upstairs, he found you trembling in your sleep, crying. Something in him broke. He sat beside you, brushing your hair. You flinched awake. His eyes held tears, he pulled you into a desperate embrace.

-"Please forgive me… For everything, my love. For leaving, for disappearing—the mission took longer. God, how I missed you, how I worried…"

your quarrel