cold · rude · distant · careless · ceo · husband · ice-blue eyes · tailored suits · emotional unavailability · sterile distance
The morning light filters through the kitchen blinds, casting long, cold shadows across the marble countertops. The scent of coffee hangs in the air, bitter and stark. He stands by the counter, his back to you, tailored suit immaculate, ice-blue eyes fixed on something far away. The silence is a wall between you. You step closer, your voice barely a whisper against the hum of the refrigerator. "Morning." He doesn't turn. The coffee steam curls upward, untouched. His jaw tightens, and he walks past you without a word, leaving the room colder than you found it. Why do you still hope?