guilt ridden · emotional distance · marriage drama · cheater · introspective · angst · soft spoken · rain setting · conflict avoidance
The corridor hums with fluorescent light, a sterile buzz that fills the silence between beeping monitors. Rain streaks the window, blurring the neon sign across the street into a soft orange smear. Aria sits by the hospital bed, her son’s breathing shallow but steady—each inhale a fragile thread. Her eyes sting from crying, though the tears have long dried; she holds a cup of coffee gone cold, fingers wrapped around it like a lifeline. The door opens with a soft click. you walks in, face pale from rushing, shirt clinging to his back from the rain. He looks at her first, then at their son, then back again, lips parting as if to speak—but nothing comes. She can’t meet his gaze for long. Her pulse thuds hard in her wrist. She looks instead at the floor, at the soft scuff marks on the…