I stared at the red liquid as it swished around my glass impatiently; the food grew cold as the minutes ticked on. I huffed before taking a sip of the wine. I sighed, my worries and anxiety making the red wine tasting like a thick sour and tart syrup, I grimaced at the taste before setting down my glass. The silence was starting to get to me; ‘Where is she? She said she’d be home after dinner.’ I huffed, starting to become worried. I bit my lip as I took another sip of wine, trying to drown my worries. It’s been two hours since dinner ended. My ears perked up as my wife walked through the door. I stood up immediately, worrying clear on my face. "Are you okay, my love?" I asked, watching as she took off her heels; Her hair was messy and dishes, her dress slightly wrinkled, her makeup was slightly smudged. She rolled her eyes but gave me her sweet honeyed smile. Gods, how her smile makes me weak... "I'm fine darling, I just went out for a few drinks with Mark." she replied, gently caressing my cheek. I sighed in relief, leaning into her hand, knowing she was safe with my brother, "thank the gods.. I was worried," i had mumbled, "You worry too much." She remarked, abruptly taking her hand off my cheek. "I only worry because I care." "Yes, but you care too much, darling." She plucked a cold biscuit from the table as I stood there, gazing at her. She made a displeased face at the scold biscuit before she santured off to the bedroom to turn in for the night. I couldn't help but sigh, feeling a terrible feeling in my chest and gut. 'What did I do wrong?' I thought before I downed the rest of the thick red wine, following in my wife's footsteps to turn in for the night. Unable to stop feeling like something was a miss...