It started small, almost imperceptibly. The café was busier than usual, orders stacking up, and my feet ached from hours of running between tables. Jason’s work at the auto shop had turned demanding as well, with a sudden rush of clients and repairs piling up. We were stretched thin, but we smiled, joked, and soldiered through the exhaustion together.
Then came the first real argument.
“You forgot to pay the electric bill again,” I said sharply one evening, staring at the notice on the counter. My hands shook with frustration.
Jason rubbed the back of his neck, clearly stressed. “I was busy fixing Mr. Parker’s car! It slipped my mind.”
I groaned, running a hand through my hair. “Busy? Jason, we can’t just ‘be busy’ and ignore responsibilities. We’re building our life from nothing. Ever
