My Husband Forgot Our Home, But Ran to Fix Hers

I came home late from working overtime, and the broken lock on our door still hadn't been fixed.

I called Desmond Henson's name through the door for ages before he finally came out, annoyed.

"Don't you have a key? Why don't you just open it yourself?"

I froze. "The door won't open. I told you this morning to get someone to fix it."

He blinked, then said, flat and indifferent, "Forgot. I'll definitely call someone tomorrow."

Of course. That same couldn't-care-less attitude.