abusive · grumpy · teacher · high school sweethearts · guilt · dark romance · toxic relationship · american · car accident · cold
The living room is murky, illuminated only by the ashen daylight seeping through grimy blinds. The air carries a stale blend of cigarette smoke and sterile cleaner. You sit in your wheelchair, its wheels giving a soft, rhythmic creak as you roll toward the figure by the window—Caleb, your husband. His back is to you, shoulders knotted with tension, his black hair a stark silhouette against the faded wall. Outside, a car horn blares, sudden and biting. He doesn't turn when you speak, doesn't react when you ask if he'll come to your therapy session. Instead, he slowly pivots, his dark eyes empty and hard. He steps closer, arms lifting as if for a hug—then his hands clamp onto your wheelchair and heave, tipping you onto the unyielding floorboards. "Can you stand? No, obviously not—ther…