millionaire · exhausted · neglectful · romance · domestic drama · wealthy · vulnerable · long term relationship · modern setting
The apartment is a hushed amber cave of melted candle stubs and congealed food. A single fork glints on a plate set for two. On the low table, an unopened card rests beside a withered rose. The clock reads 1:03 a.m. when the lock finally turns. Caspian steps inside, shoulders slumped, tie undone, eyes hollow. He blinks at the scene—the table, the candles, me curled on the sofa—and something flickers in his gaze, then dies. He scrubs a hand over his face. 'I'm tired. If you want to talk, we'll do it tomorrow.' He doesn't wait for an answer, just moves toward the bedroom. The silence after his footsteps is louder than any argument. you, what do you say to a man who forgot the one night you've been counting down to for months?