Greg woke up just as Edward left the room. With a slight sigh, he rolled over and looked at the alarm clock. Should he get up with Mr. Miserable and help him out a little before work? But doing anything with Edward lately just felt like a chore. Greg wasn't sure where all this had gone wrong, but somewhere along the lines Edward had stopped appreciating all the hard work Greg was putting in. And he only did it for them in the first place.

He sat up in bed. He wasn't about to get back to sleep anyway. And he knew Edward wouldn't bring him a coffee, even if he knew he was awake. He stood up and went to find himself a fresh suit. He'd have to get the ones from the last few days dry cleaned too. He'd leave them with Edward but... to be fair he didn't trust the guy anymore. He seemed to have lost all lust for life, all self-respect, and all interest in staying connected to reality.

Greg had told Edward that he seemed depressed. He had offered him hired help. He had gone to all the counseling and therapy sessions together. And the answer was always the same. “I just want you to work less.”

Edward just didn't see the big picture at all. He was too caught up in the present, in the small details. He didn't understand how, as soon as Greg got another promotion or pay rise, they could be set for life. He thought this was a matter of petty cash or something, he didn't see all that was at stake.

Walking downstairs, Greg found Edward cleaning up after the kids. He looked so hot. Sure, he'd put on a little weight since their college days, but the otter look kind of suited him anyway. Greg wrapped his arms around Edward. “Good morning, handsome,” he said.

“I'm a little busy,” Edward replied coldly.

Reluctantly, Greg let go, wondering what Edward's problem was. He watched his husband out of the corner of his eye as he started the coffee machine. He was home so little, they did so little together, that when he was there he wanted it to be special. But Edward would just blank him or brush him off.

Greg took his coffee into the living room so that he wouldn't have to deal with Edward directly ignoring him, then began to make a list of what he needed to do that day. In the kitchen he could hear the clatter of dishes being stacked into the dishwasher. He'd got Edward everything possible to take the burden of housework off him.

He had a dishwasher, a clothes press, a slow cooker, and a pressure cooker. He had the kids enrolled in after school clubs and activities. He had a subscription to a cleaning service if he ever wanted it. And he didn't have to work either. He literally had nothing at all he needed to do. And yet he always seemed more stressed than Greg. It made no sense at all.

Greg got showered, dressed, and found his backpack and the bag with his dirty suits in it.

“I'm off to work,” he shouted from the doorway.

“When will you be back?” Edward asked, sticking his head out of the kitchen door.

Greg shrugged. “Tonight, unless I get delayed.”

Edward pursed his lips and nodded. “So... Do I keep therapy, cancel it, or just apologize again when we don't show up?”

Crap. He'd forgotten therapy. “I uh... I'll try and make sure I don't have anything else. At least I'll get out in time to be there. Can you get there yourself?”

Edward cast him a piercing look before returning to the kitchen. “Yeah, sure, I'll drive myself and see you there,” he replied once out of sight.

“Well... I'm going. See you this evening.” He waited briefly for a reply, and when nothing came he set off for work.

They used to be so close, him and Edward. They used to do almost everything together. Sure, he was working more, but when he was in work and Edward was studying they had managed. Back then they could go a week only seeing each other every other night. And then they'd have wild sex, order in takeout, and talk until the early hours of the morning, until they absolutely had to go to bed. And Greg understood that you wouldn't do the same stuff in your thirties as in your teens and twenties. People changed. But they had grown apart and he could not understand why.

All he knew was that maybe, just maybe, if he got that promotion and could afford to take work home, to skip overtime, to fund the kids' college degrees... maybe then Edward would look at him as the big strong man again. Maybe Edward would lust for him again.

Work was just more of the same. It always felt like he was never headed anywhere. He did everything he was told, he showed initiative, he took overtime and always over-delivered. And yet he was consistently ignored by his superiors, except when they had more things for him to do.

That day he worked as fast as he could, finishing his quarterly report and the presentation of his sales figures. Not only was it done with time to spare, but it looked great. Great sales, great profits, great design choice for the spreadsheet, great strategies. And a little bit of him died when he realized that this would make no difference. The promotion to regional manager would be given to someone else.

Still, he made calls, began planning for the five-day trip, and carried on working until half past five. It was better than being left with his own thoughts and worries. The numbers were soothing, if only because they stopped him from thinking about anything else.

Just as he was grabbing his backpack and the dry cleaner ticket for his suits, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was his supervisor, Mark Trent.

“I have a little favor to ask you,” Trent began. “I know it's a lot but...”

“No, I'll do my best, what is it?” Greg said as he finished the warm coffee in the bottom of his mug.

“Can you stay back to finish Truman's quarterly report for him? It's his anniversary tonight and he's not quite done with the spreadsheet.”

“Tonight?” Greg asked.

“Sorry it's such short notice, I mean, I know you're a trooper though. You'll take one for the team, right?”

Greg briefly considered taking the work. After all, it would bring him another tiny step closer to that promotion. But... No, it wouldn't make that much of a difference. In the grand scheme, at least he saw the improvements from therapy.

“I'd love to,” he replied, “but the kids' hamster died this morning. We're getting a replacement, but they're really upset. I promised I'd be there to reassure them and have a little funeral.”

Mark looked suddenly a little nervous. “Well, I... um... I get that, man. Kids need you. You go.” Trent began scanning the room a little anxiously. His eyes landed on Lara Grunstein, who was also just packing up. “See you in the morning. Give Ed my regards.” And with that, he was making a beeline to Lara.

“Son of a bitch,” Greg muttered. Mark really had taken it for granted that Greg would be free. He had probably even already told Truman that the report would be done for him. Truman was probably driving home already to fuck his willing and happy wife.

“Screw Truman,” Greg grumbled as he slipped on his backpack and headed to the employee multi story car park.

The drive to therapy was fairly uneventful, albeit a little slow due to traffic. Greg had hoped to be there early, or at least on time. But between Trent and the traffic, he had lost vital minutes which added up and up, leaving him ten minutes late.

Greg was feeling stressed and angry as he pulled into therapy. Naturally, Edward's car was already there. Edward, who has nothing to do, ever, on time? Shocking. He got out of the car and drew a deep breath. He needed to be calm for therapy. That was something they had already discussed. Therapy was not an unnecessary addition to his already exhausting list of chores. Therapy was an important time to help him hold it all together. And it did help. At least it left Edward more relaxed and more in the mood, which was helpful.

Walking up the stairs, he saw Edward in the waiting room.

“Is your supervisor holding you back again?” Edward asked dryly.

“Actually it was just traffic, and it's only ten minutes,” Greg replied.

“Are you ever more than a minute late to anything to do with work?” Edward asked.

“Let's save it for therapy,” Greg replied with a sigh, knocking on Ms. Samantha Grant's door.

The door opened and Ms. Grant smiled. “Oh, you're both here. Wonderful.”

The words felt like a knife to the chest as Greg and Edward moved in and found their seats. Was she against him too? Were they both ganging up on him? No, they knew he was busy. They knew he sometimes couldn't make it, however much he wanted to. He drew a deep breath He was just projecting, that was all. Just projecting.

“So, how has this week been?” Ms. Grant asked.

“Oh, mine has been okay, bit of the same,” said Edward, glancing at Greg. “How about yours?”

Greg sighed. “I... I've been busy again,” he admitted to Ms. Grant.

“Don't tell me, tell him,” she replied, nodding toward Edward.

“I just... I have a lot I need to do,” Greg explained, trying to make eye contact with Edward.

Edward looked away. “Well, at least you have things to do.”

“You can do literally anything you want,” Greg replied. “I make sure you have so much free time.”

“Anything inside the house. What did you tell me this morning?” Edward replied.

“That's different,” Greg said, “work is... work. I don't want you stressed out and absent when the kids could need you.”

“How does that make you feel, Edward?” Ms. Grant asked.

“Sad,” Edward replied. “Sad because I am so bored and all I want to do is feel like my life has a little purpose.”

Greg blinked. How could Edward feel his life didn't have purpose? He was raising two beautiful kids and enabling Greg to make the sort of money that would lead to an amazing retirement for the both of them. “Do you really want to work so badly? I mean... you could start an online business, like Sarah Lindermann.”

“Sarah Lindermann sells pyramid scheme perfumes and makes most of her money getting people like me to sign up,” Edward replied. “I want a real job. Out of the house. With real people.”

“Perhaps it is time for Edward to return to work, Greg?” Ms. Grant suggested.

Greg paused and wondered about it a few seconds.

“You're having the conversation with yourself,” Ms. Grant said, “Have it with us, Greg. How does it make you feel?”

He looked at his feet. The idea of the house being empty, of the kids not returning home to anyone, sent a chill down his spine. “Scared,” he confessed. “The idea of there being nobody at home for the kids, after all they've been through... it scares me. You know Jill once slept in a wood shed cause her parents stayed out drinking? A wood shed. What would she feel if she came home and you weren't there because you were stuck in traffic?” Greg buried his face in his hands. “I'm sorry I just...”

“It's okay, it's okay,” Ms. Grant said softly. “We're not talking about doing it yet. We're just talking about talking about it. And tonight, or when you next have some private time together, I want you to talk about how you could make this work, if you had to, okay?”

Greg nodded. “Okay.” Talking he could do. Talking was fine. “Is it time yet?”

Ms. Grant shook her head. “Not quite, but I think we've reached something we need to deal with first. So, I'll roll over your next twenty minutes to the end of the next session, and I want you two to start working on that tonight.”

Greg and Edward both nodded. As they stood up to leave, Edward wrapped his arms tightly around Greg. “I'm so glad you let that out,” he said. They started walking toward the exit. “Are you coming home, then?” Edward added.

Greg nodded. “Yeah, may as well. I lied to get out of work.” He slipped his hand into Edward's as they walked toward the door. “If I go back they'll know it was a lie.”

“What did you say?” Edward asked, accepting and squeezing the hand.

“That Jill's hamster died and the kids were mourning,” he replied, with a slight chuckle.

Edward laughed too. “Well, now we have to tell the kids to get in on the act too. So that when Mark stops by to offer his condolences they know what the fuck he's talking about.”

“Hey, it meant I could make it here,” Greg replied. “I sometimes feel like I'd need to have a relative die to get an actual day off.”

“Maybe we should...” Edward began.

“We should?” Greg asked, knowing better than to get excited.

“There is this place and...” Edward continued, making eye contact with Greg and speaking slowly, clearly checking for a reaction.

“A place? You're not being much clearer,” Greg said.

“A couples resort. For... reconnecting. With you mentioning time off, I... ah, forget it.” Edward moved toward his car.

“Eddie, didn't you hear what I said? I'd have to be attending my own mother's funeral before they let me take an actual week off.” He sighed. “Please, let's not ruin tonight.”

“What about tonight?” Edward asked. “You expecting wifey to put out?”

“Well... kind of,” Greg replied. “I miss you. I miss your body and your smile and those nasty sounds you make.” He smiled. “Let's get some tension out the system.”

Edward paused. “Fine. But it's because I'm tense as well, not because I've forgiven you for...”

“Of course, of course,” Greg replied getting into his car. “But let's get going.”

Edward smiled a little and then repressed it. “Okay, yeah, let's.”

Greg closed the car door and started the engine. Why was it him who got the hard breaks? All his coworkers seemed to have great lives, with great relationships, great families, and great hobbies. But Greg... No matter how much he did it seemed the universe never paid him back. He rarely saw his family, his husband was growing distant, and he had to go home and get an early night, to get an early start, so he could be back at work to start all over. For what? So everyone could continue to live a better life than him? Fucking Truman was probably balls deep in his loving wife by now. And Truman would probably get that promotion too.