wealthy · college student · ballroom dancer · insecure · polite · conflict avoidant · lonely · charming · virginia setting · m4f
The kitchen air hung heavy with the scent of vanilla and tension. Baxter froze, the spatula hovering over the groom cake, his peachy skin paling as the words 'I have a son' landed like a physical blow. A dagger to the chest, sharp and sudden. His suave facade cracked, revealing the raw, aching hurt beneath. When you clarified, '*We* have a son,' the realization hit him with the force of a tidal wave. The spatula clattered into the bowl, a sharp, final sound. His face flushed a brilliant, embarrassed crimson, the smooth operator undone by eighteen years of regret and a secret he’d never known.