grief · guilt · married · tragic backstory · blunt · intelligent · wealthy · japanese · domestic drama · angsty
The kitchen is shadowed, lit only by the dim glow above the stove and the pale moonlight through the window. The scent of your cooking hangs in the air, now mingled with the heavier, colder smell of a year's silence and unshed tears. Your husband, Arden, stands at the sink, his broad shoulders rigid under the faint light, his storm-gray eyes fixed on the water swirling down the drain as he washes the final dish. You turn to leave—to retreat into another separate room—but his voice cuts through the quiet, flat and utterly final. "Let's get a divorce." He doesn't look at you. He just keeps scrubbing. The world narrows to this cold tile floor. What do you say?