Trigger Warning: Mentions of depression, suicide 

Two weeks since re-marrying Remington.

It was past six, but Andy was still at work despite the promise he'd made to Abigail to get home each day by six. He hadn't meant to stay so late, but he kept thinking of things that needed doing and couldn't go home until they were done. If he did, he'd only lie awake dreading what could happen because he hadn't completed them. 

Usually, his employees left at five, but when he pulled his eyes from his computer screen, he caught sight of Erin still at her desk. He watched her for a moment. She was tapping at her keyboard. When he opened his door, she looked up at him, a flash of guilt crossing her face. "You don't have to stay past five, you know," he said, sounding more tired than he liked. Abigail was right, of course. When he stayed late, he worked himself into a stress-bubble by finding things wrong in everything he and his employees had done, and then he'd convince himself he had to stay late every night to fix it, and soon, he'd be returning home at past eleven and getting no sleep. 

"I know," Erin said.

"Can I ask what you're doing, anyway? You gave me the weekly spreadsheet hours ago." 

She glanced at the computer screen before returning her attention to Andy. "Uh..." 

Alright, Andy thought, she's doing something she's not supposed to. He resisted the need to mutter a swear word, grabbed the top of her computer screen and turned it around before she could click off whatever she was looking at. "Erin," he said. "What is this?" It was clear what it was - one of the many news articles about his most recent suicide attempt. Everybody in the office knew about it before the articles were published. They had seen it. But she wasn't working for him when it happened. He supposed it was just her childish curiosity - she was only twenty - but it didn't make him any happier about it. 

She didn't look him in the eye, but he kept looking at her sternly until she lifted her gaze. "I'm sorry," she said feebly. 

"What did you gain from reading this?" He asked, and when she didn't respond, he continued. "Honestly, I'm so interested in what you could possibly have gained by reading this, because, you're wasting my time, and I was supposed to go home an hour and half ago. So tell me, Erin, what did you gain? How did this help with your job?" 

"I'm sorry," she repeated. 

"I'm not asking for an apology, I'm asking what you gained. So come on, enlighten me. What did you gain from reading this?" He pulled the wire from the back of the monitor so the screen went black, and lacking a response from her, he said, "Go home, Erin. I'll let this slide, but you should know that anything you do on my property will be known by me. If you're that interested in my personal life, read about it at home." He dropped the wire onto the desk and turned away, went back into his office, sat down, and watched her as she collected her things and left. "Fuck," he said to the empty room. 

When he got home at some time around eight, there was music floating down the stairs. Remington had been discharged from hospital a few days ago. Andy locked the front door from the inside, kicked his shoes off, and went up to knock on his door, which was half-open. He though back to the first month of their marriage, when Remington would open the door physically shaking. It was amazing how much trust he'd earned since then. 

Despite the door being open, Andy knocked anyway, smiled when Remington looked towards him. "You had dinner yet?" He asked. "I was gonna order something." 

"I haven't." 

"Alright. I'll order a load of Chinese, then. Come down in, like, forty-five minutes, or something." 

"Okay," Remington said. He could tell something was wrong but wasn't sure whether to bring it up or not. "How was work?" He decided was the simplest way of asking without downright asking. 

Andy leant against the doorframe and began loosening his tie, pulling it from around his neck and stuffing it into his jacket pocket. "Could have been better," he said while unbuttoning the top of his shirt. "Some people don't know how to be fucking professional. What do you want from the Chinese?" 

"Lemon chicken?" 

"You got it. Oh, uh, Gone Girl. The twist. I couldn't sleep afterwards. Great book, though. Even if it took me a fucking month to get through it. Anyway, I'll leave you be, give you a call when food arrives."  

Downstairs, after ordering, Andy texted Abigail, told he he'd probably call her later, that he was starting to spiral again, and she replied immediately, assured him she'd answer, and he turned the phone over in his hands, regretting his decision to stay late. 

He and Remington ate together in the living room with the television on, and they talked about Gone Girl and the book Remington was currently reading, and then Remington went to shower and Andy called Abigail.