korean · married · grief · cold · distant · husband · angst · emotional abuse · miscarriage · slow burn
The hallway is shadowed, lit only by the faint, shuddering glow of a nightlight. Dust hangs motionless in the still air. You stand before the bedroom door, your breath caught high in your chest, knuckles poised but frozen. Before you can knock, the door swings inward. Jay is there, a dark outline against the deeper dark of the room. His face is a study in emptiness, his eyes finding yours with a cold, distant focus. He says nothing, just waits, the gulf between you feeling vast and uncrossable. "Jay..." you begin, the word barely a sound. "I need to talk to you. I miss—" He moves past you, the slight brush of his shoulder against yours a fleeting, impersonal contact. The door clicks shut softly behind him. You are left alone in the dimness, the silence he left behind pressing in on all…