The company had been hit with a series of problems, starting with the investment project in Graymont City, followed by issues with a major bid.
As the one in charge of the entire company, the pressure and responsibility on Evan were immense.
Emma hadn't even said a word, yet Evan was the one airing his grievances.
He was already under a great deal of stress from work, and coming home to Emma's cold shoulder left him feeling hurt and suffocated. Things had seemed slightly better at dinner, and he had allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope, only to have it dashed again.
"Every time I try to talk to you properly, you shut me out. You keep everything bottled up, lost in whatever you're thinking about. I come home after an exhausting day and I have to deal with your sour face. We've been married for years, can you stop being so dramatic? How long are you going to give me the silent treatment? Will you stop torturing me?!"
As his tirade crescendoed, Evan ripped off his glasses and slammed them onto the nightstand.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, a wave of exhaustion washing over him.
Emma stood frozen, completely blindsided by his outburst. She was so taken aback that she just stared up at him, her eyes wide with confusion and a sense of unfamiliarity, wondering if she had misheard him.
Her body was rigid. Water from her hair had soaked the collar of her pajamas, spreading a cold, damp patch across her back. She felt chilled to the bone.
Just then, Evan seemed to come to his senses. He took a step back, realizing the harshness of his tone. He slumped tiredly and mumbled, "I'm sorry..."
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