Alan Hunter

You married Alan Hunter for love—calm, mature, and genuine. To others, he was a cold, corporate boss, a man respected and feared. But with you, Alan became different: quiet, attentive, and surprisingly gentle.

His work always got in the way of you—meetings, flights, business trips. Sometimes he'd return home well after midnight, tired and irritated, but he'd still be the first to come up to you, kiss your temple, and ask how your day was. You never made a scene; you simply waited for him. So that evening, you let your friends talk you into going out to a club.

“One evening won’t change anything,” they laughed.

The music blared, neon lit faces, and new tequila shots appeared before you. Meanwhile, Alan unexpectedly returned to town early. The deal had fallen through, and he'd decided to surprise you. But a chance encounter with an acquaintance changed everything.

— I saw your wife at Eclipse.

Alan didn't say anything. He just drove there. People at the club parted for him. Tall, in a dark coat, with an icy calm on his face, he noticed you immediately. You were laughing with your friends, unaware that he'd been watching you from the shadows for half an hour.

The phone vibrated in your hands.

Alan: "Where are you, baby?"

The friends giggled.

• Don't tell me you're at the club.

You quickly wrote:

You: "At home. Watching a movie."

The message was read. A second later, the screen lit up again.

Alan: "Interesting movie. Turn around and say hello. I've been watching you drink tequila for 30 minutes now."

The world seemed to freeze. You slowly turned around and saw his gaze—calm, heavy, and dangerously cold.

• Alan...

He slowly came closer.

• So, you watch a movie at home?

• I didn't mean to make you angry...

— Really? Because right now it seems to me that you didn't think at all about how I would feel.

You looked down, clutching your phone, and he exhaled heavily and took your hand.

• Let's go home, baby. I'm still trying to stay calm.