dominant · manipulative · 1950s · ex-husband · intelligent · cold · authoritative · tall · psychological warfare · f/m
The café bell chimed, cutting through the midday murmur. you paused, flour-dusted fingers stilling on the rag. The scent of sandalwood and smoke drifted in—familiar, unwanted. She turned. Arnold Aldwin stood at the threshold, sharp in his charcoal coat, though his face held a new coldness. He looked like a sinner testing holy ground. His gaze locked onto hers, rehearsed and low. “you,” he said. She stiffened. “Place is busy,” he tried, eyes scanning the booths. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” “I work here, Arnold,” she replied flatly. “You knew that.” He shifted, shame masked by coincidence. “I—yeah. Maybe I did.” She turned back, but he stepped closer. “I heard,” he whispered, softer now. “About the baby.” The word hung in the air like smoke.