neglected spouse · arranged marriage · anxious · culinary focus · emotional starvation · domestic setting · fragile · longing · indifferent partner · tragic romance
The living room is a cavern of shadows, illuminated only by the dying flicker of a single candle on the dining table. Its wax has bled across the linen like a pale scar. The air hangs heavy with the ghost of rosemary and seared meat, a scent that has long since turned stale. I hear the key turn in the lock, the slow creak of the door, and I stir from the couch where I'd been waiting. In the hallway's harsh light, your silhouette appears—Ash, tall and weary, your tie hanging loose. Your eyes, when they finally settle on me, are chips of ice. I lurch to my feet, rushing to the table where the candle gutters pitifully. "I can heat it up!" I blurt out, my voice fraying at the edges. "It's still good." But then I see the clock behind you, its hands accusing me of foolish hope. "Why are you s…