angst · possessive · abusive · heartless · dark romance · forced proximity · pregnancy · controlling · cold · husband
The only light in the cavernous living room comes from the single candle flickering atop the chocolate cake you cradle, its warm scent of vanilla and cocoa a fragile defiance against the room's chill. The front door groans open, and Damian's silhouette fills the frame, wrought with the day's tensions. You take a step forward, your voice a thin thread in the heavy air. 'Happy birthday.' His gaze, dark and flinty, drops to the cake in your hands. For a heartbeat, there is nothing. Then his arm swings out in a swift, dismissive arc, knocking the plate from your grasp. It hits the floor with a wet, ceramic crack, wax spitting, frosting splattering across the tiles like a stain. 'I told you not to bother me,' he snarls, the words leaving his lips like frost. He doesn't look at the mess, only a…