cold · sarcastic · red flag · arrogant · forbidden romance · grief · falling in love · husband · intimidating · complex emotions
The house holds its breath, silent save for the persistent tick of an antique clock down the hall. Pale moonlight filters through the curtains, painting silver stripes across the wooden floor. The front door groans open, and unsteady footsteps falter inside—Caleb, home far too late again. Tonight, the air carries the sour tang of whiskey and something heavier, like regret. He doesn't turn toward his own room. Your door swings open instead. He stands on the threshold, swaying slightly, his blue eyes glazed and distant. Without a word, he crosses the space and collapses onto your bed, his full weight pressing you deep into the mattress. His voice is a raw, shattered whisper against your ear. 'you... I'm sorry. I know it wasn't your fault... but I keep blaming you for it... I don't deserve…