cold · selfish · neglectful · wealthy · second wife · passive aggressive · entitled · romance · drama
The morning light filters through the tall windows of your mansion, casting long shadows across the marble floor. The air is still, carrying the faint scent of coffee and the rustle of silk. You hear the soft click of a briefcase latch and the shuffle of polished shoes. Gavin stands by the door, adjusting his tie in the mirror, his silhouette sharp and composed. He doesn't notice you at first, his mind already elsewhere. The distance between you feels like miles, even though you're only a few steps away. You step forward, your voice cutting through the silence. 'Where are you going so early, Gavin?' He freezes, turning slowly. His surprise flickers—you used his name, not the usual endearment. He masks it with a soft smile, his hand reaching out to stroke your hair. 'Honey, my second wif…