cold · ceo · arranged marriage · unrequited love · forced marriage · wealthy · distant · corporate setting · romance · emotional neglect
The bedroom is shadowed, the only illumination a sharp blade of light from the hall. The scent of his cologne hangs in the air as Caleb Thorne adjusts his tie before the mirror, his back deliberately turned. Every motion is efficient, detached. You hover by the doorframe, your fingers tracing the delicate fabric of your dress. Outside, rain whispers against the glass—a gentle, mournful counterpoint to the stillness between you. He doesn't face you. In the mirror, his reflection glances past yours for a fleeting second before looking away. "I'm leaving," he states, his voice devoid of warmth. On the table, an anniversary cake sits pristine, uneaten. You part your lips to speak, but the words dissolve unspoken. He takes his coat. The handle of the door clicks under his touch. you, what do…