Just how long, with no notice, was it acceptable to be late for dinner before either worry or annoyance set in. Jess really wanted to know, because as he'd been told for their entire relationship, Fallon could take care of herself, so he assumed she wasn't in any danger, so she was just what? At work? Seeing Miss Skovgaard? Both of which could be easily dismissed, you know, if Fallon bothered to tell him. She got so worked up about him wanting a "normal" marriage, when he had even conceded otherwise, but honestly, was she even trying?

They'd been tiptoeing around one another since her return in June and Jess hated the feeling of walking on eggshells in his own house. One he was used to occupying solo, mind. He wasn't sure which was worse, her being gone or this weird limbo they found themselves in. Something had to give. The problem was, Jess didn't know what exactly that meant for them.

He'd come to the realization in her absence, that he was mourning the loss of the marriage he'd wanted his entire life, what he'd given up to be with Fallon. He loved her, he truly did, but she always made it sound like she was the only one making sacrifices. The agreement to wait a few years to have children hadn't been easy, but he was willing to compromise. It was apparently just taking him longer to come to terms with it.

Of course it didn't help that she'd been gone for months on end, only to come back from a mission in which her partner no longer knew who he was, and now they felt like strangers sharing a space, and she couldn't be bothered to come home for dinner. After thirty minutes, he'd eaten, left her plate on the counter in the kitchen, and retired to his study to read. What the fuck else was he supposed to do?