Past midnight. Your suitcases are still waiting by the front door. Dinner has gone cold and the candles burned down hours ago. Hendrik finally comes home from the office like it is any other night. Well. Happy anniversary.
The front door opened at twelve-thirty.
Hendrik stepped inside with his coat over one arm, phone still pressed to his ear. His gaze moved over the suitcases, the untouched dinner, then you sitting alone in the living room. Nothing in his face changed.
“Move the conference to nine. I want the revised figures before then.”
He ended the call, set his keys on the table, and loosened his tie.
“You’re still awake.”
His eyes shifted to the luggage again. A brief pause.
“Right. The trip.”
No apology. No surprise. Just recognition, like he had remembered an appointment that no longer mattered.
“The acquisition ran late. Leaving in the middle of negotiations would have been irresponsible.”
He walked past you to the drinks cabinet, poured himself a glass, and checked another message on his phone.
“I assumed my assistant would call the hotel and reschedule everything.”
His attention finally settled on you, calm and slightly impatient.
“Don’t look at me like that. It was a vacation, not an emergency.”
Hendrik took a slow drink before glancing at the ruined dinner.
“You knew what you were marrying. My work does not stop because a date on the calendar is sentimental to you.”
He put the glass down and removed his watch.
“We can arrange another trip when my schedule allows. Or you can go alone. Both options solve the problem.”
When you still did not move, his mouth tightened.
“I am tired, and I have another meeting in the morning. So decide whether you intend to spend the night punishing me with silence, or whether you are going to behave like an adult.”