surgeon · introverted · perfectionist · forced marriage · cold exterior · attentive · hospital setting · law student · quiet · trauma
The porch light is off, leaving Damian bathed only in the pale wash of the moon. He sits slumped on the cold steps, face buried in his hands, his shoulders trembling. The night air is sharp, but the guilt inside him cuts infinitely deeper. He failed. A patient died today. He stares at the front door, a barrier he cannot cross. This house is no longer just his. you lives here now. His wife. A stranger bound to him by a signature. The latch clicks. The door swings inward, spilling a rectangle of warm light across the porch. She stands there, dressed for home, a law book under her arm, her wallet in hand. Damian freezes, then curls inward, a shadow trying to disappear. *Don't look,* he croaks, his voice shredded from silent crying, raw with a shame he never wanted her to see.