Cyrus left the meeting later that day in a far better mood than he had been in for the past two days. He went straight to his office, past Reggie's room that had optimistic music blaring obnoxiously loud from it. If Esther was here, she would probably go in and jam to the music with him.

Thinking of his wife made him clutch his phone in his fist even harder. There was still no reply from her.

She'd simply left his demands for her to come back on read.

He took a deep breath, settling into the large chair at his desk and staring at the ceiling.

1. Never piss your wife. Even if you do accept it's your fault.

He pulled his phone out his pocket and stared at the ignored messages.

[Apologize. Can't be that hard. Right?] he thought to himself.

Half an hour and 7 different websites on how to write a genuine apology letter, he sent the text. Now all he had to do was wait for her to respond.

And 3 hours later she did.

'Okay.'

Okay?

He shot up from his chair, nearly knocking his dinner over. Reggie shot him a weird look over the table, picked up his plate and walked back to his room. He was 5 and had better anger management than this grown adult.

Cyrus ignored him, his focus on his wife's blunt text and the text only. He felt like punching something but thought against it.

At least she was responding to him now. He shot her a quick text. 'Can we talk?'

He saw her start typing, then she went offline.

Rage surged through his body again. And this time he couldn't help but fling his plate at a cupboard, watching the porcelain shatter on impact and splatter the half-eaten pasta all over the floor. He stalked out of his kitchen and threw his phone at the wall, leaving it lying half cracked on the carpeted hallway.

He drowned himself in work again that night.

The next day he woke up lying on his desk. He found his phone with a new tempered glass, sitting neatly on the desk. He narrowed his eyes at the absurdity of that.

Something caught his attention. The sound of chatter floating up from the floor below and Cyrus slipped down the stairs in confusion. Did Reggie have someone over? Was it possible for a 5 year old to have someone over?

Esther had Reggie in her arms, feeding him breakfast with one hand and going through documents while he chewed and sang tunes offkey in her ear. She had half her hair up in a simple updo, a bland t-shirt and baggy pants on, and she was glowing.

Cyrus sped down the rest of the way, his eyes wide. She was back.

Esther turned at the sound of his footsteps, narrowing her eyes at him. "Well, hello there."

Reggie mimicked her expression, crossing his little arms across his chest.

Cyrus blinked.

"Esther…you're back." He said lamely, not knowing what else to say.

"You wanted to talk. So, here I am." She deadpanned. Reggie wrapped his arms around his mother's neck, sticking his tongue out at his father. "Yeah! Don't make mommy mad again!" Esther kissed her son's cheek softly and set him down on the ground.

"Good. So why did you-" Cyrus began. He cut himself off when his wife shot him a dark look. "Not now. Clean up your messes before you even dare speak to me. Your anger issues are becoming a problem." She chastised.

He stared at her, wondering what she was talking about.

Esther looked unimpressed, shaking her head in disappointment. "The plate you broke. Go clean that up. I'm not going to fix all your messes and just brush that aside. We're going to talk after I drop off Reggie at school. Don't even dare try breaking anything or yelling at anyone while I'm gone." She snapped.

Cyrus pressed his lips together, nodding hurriedly.

Esther held out a hand to her son, and Reggie gleefully clung to it and led his mother out of the room. Cyrus heard the car start and the gates open before silence fell over the house again.

4. If they say one thing, then it means it's another thing.

Cyrus slapped his forehead with his hand. Dammit. His wife probably wanted him to beg for her attention even more. She told him they were going to talk later with the hopes that he would pin after her and apologize even more.

Ugh okay.

He pulled out his cellphone again, realizing that his wife probably had a maid change the cracked tempered glass for him. Maybe getting an android was a good idea, he mused.

He was then reminded of his wife's request…no, order, for him to clear up the damage he caused the night before and internally groaned.

He sent a text to his wife begging for forgiveness and asked if they could talk sooner. This time she answered almost immediately.

'I said we're going to talk later, Cyrus. Just take my bloody word for it.'

Cyrus was even more confused now. Didn't women mean a different thing when they spoke? He couldn't read their minds! What could she possibly mean by this?

Sighing, he put away his phone and got to work cleaning up the mess. He could easily call a maid to clean it up for him, but he was sure his wife wanted him to clear up his own messes and would definitely get mad at him for asking someone to do it for him.

He cleared up the broken shards as quickly as he could and threw the now moldy pasta away, glad to be rid of the smell. He stared at the stain on the cabinets, calling a maid to teach him how to clean it.

She looked visibly shocked but did not question it. The maid told him what he had to do and within the next hour, the kitchen looked almost new.

Esther came home just then, pausing to look at, not him, but the clean kitchen. She nodded her head in approval and walked away. Cyrus sprinted after her, catching her arm by her wrist just as she was about to walk up the stairs to perhaps her study.

"Aren't you going to comment on my work?" Cyrus asked her gruffly. Esther raised her brows, wrenching her wrist out of his hand and gripping his arm. "You don't praise me for doing quote 'wifely duties'. Why should I comment on you doing the bare minimum of clearing a mess you made?" she hissed. Cyrus' eyes widened and he looked away, realizing she had a fair point. Her eyes softened, and she patted her husband on the shoulder. "Good job on getting the stains out though. I don't think I would've done as well as you did."