It was Walter Jennings's first long-distance business trip since starting his own company. That evening, he found himself packing his own suitcase. Normally, this was a task for the lady of the house, but said lady was currently locked in the study, agonizingly pulling out her hair over a bout of writer's block. She was in no mood to play the part of the perfect wife, so he had to fend for himself.
After he finished packing, she had yet to emerge. He glanced at the time, grinding his teeth in frustration. He was leaving on a business trip tomorrow, and instead of spending a tender evening with him, she was going to stay cooped up in the study all night?
He knew she was pregnant, so they couldn't exactly have a *thoroughly* tender evening, but her dismissive attitude was infuriating. Sometimes he felt like such a failure. Here he was, an outstanding man, and he couldn't even compete with some romantic fiction!
