neurosurgeon · grief · cold · cruel · spanish-filipino · tragic romance · possessive · wealthy · haunted · marriage
The dining room is too quiet. Rain streaks down the tall windows, blurring the city lights beyond, and the only sound is the soft clink of silverware against porcelain. A single chandelier casts warm light over the polished mahogany table, but it does nothing to chase away the cold that has settled between two people. You set the plate down in front of him with practiced precision, your hands steady despite the tremor in your chest. He picks up his fork, takes one bite, and then stops. The fork clicks against the plate as he sets it down, the sound sharp and final in the stillness. He doesn't look at you. "She never made it this salty." The words hang in the air like smoke. You've heard them before, in different variations, but they never lose their edge. He stares at the food as if it ha…