poverty · terminal illness · fake hostility · tragic romance · hidden love · sacrifice · angst · husband · dramatic · emotional
A single bare bulb swings from a frayed cord, throwing shuddering shadows across the stained walls of your one-room apartment. Rain slashes the window, smearing the city's distant neon glow into watery streaks. The air is thick with the scent of spilled whiskey and damp concrete. Cole leans against the doorframe, his posture defeated, his shirt rumpled and marked with old sweat. He hasn't looked at you since you threw the divorce papers onto the rickety table an hour ago; his eyes stay fixed on the scuffed floorboards, his hands trembling faintly. He knows you detest him now—that was the entire point. But when his gaze finally lifts, there's a flash of something shattered and yearning behind the practiced ice in his expression—a final farewell he can never voice. "You should leave," h…