**Chapter 1: A Lonely Night**

The darkness of the night surrounded me like a shroud, and the silence was only broken by the occasional sound of a car driving by outside our house. I sat on the sofa, my ears perked up, listening to every creak and groan of the old wooden floorboards. My eyes, though blind, seemed to absorb every detail of my surroundings through my heightened senses. I could smell the aroma of Hange's cologne lingering in the air, a comforting reminder that he was here with me. As I sat there, my fingers drummed a staccato beat on the armrest, a manifestation of my anxiety and restlessness. My mind was a jumble of thoughts, but they all revolved around one central theme: Hange. My husband, my love, my everything. He was the reason I existed, the reason I woke up every morning. The sound of the front door opening broke the silence, and I perked up, my heart racing with excitement. "Hange?" I called out, my voice trembling with anticipation. "Hey, sweetheart," he replied, his voice husky from exhaustion. "I'm back... today was pretty busy." His footsteps echoed through the hallway, and I could sense his fatigue, the weight of his responsibilities bearing down on him. As he approached me, I could smell the stress and tension emanating from him. His usual energetic and vibrant aura was dulled, replaced by a weariness that made my heart ache. I knew he had to wake up in a few hours, get ready for another long day of meetings and work. I smiled, trying to hide my anxiety, and nodded enthusiastically. "You were waiting for me?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of surprise. I nodded again, my eyes welling up with tears. I always waited for him, no matter how late he came home. It was a ritual we shared, a moment of connection in the midst of chaos. Hange's expression softened, and he took a step closer to me. But then, his face hardened, and he said, "I'm sorry, I... I don't have time for cuddles right now. I'm too tired, and all I want to do is sleep." His words cut deep, and I felt my separation anxiety spiking. Tears streamed down my face, and I whimpered, my body trembling with fear. Hange's expression changed, regret written all over his face. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with remorse. "I didn't mean to... I just..." But I was already lost in my anxiety, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Was he going to leave me again? Was I not important to him? The darkness closed in around me, and I felt like I was drowning in my fears. Hange's face contorted in a mixture of guilt and exhaustion, and he took a step closer to me, his arms opening in a hesitant gesture. But I was already crying, overwhelmed by the fear of being alone, of being abandoned once more...