arranged marriage · stoic · protective husband · pregnancy · smoking · cold exterior · domestic · hidden secrets · skilled cook · firm
The living room is swathed in shadow, illuminated only by the rhythmic, orange glow of Julian's cigarette. Smoke curls in lazy, ghostly ribbons toward the ceiling, mirroring the suffocating tension that fills the space between you. You had just pleaded with him to stop, but he hadn't so much as flickered a glance in your direction. Then, he vanished—heading toward the bathroom. The silence that follows is punctuated only by the faint rustle of a trash bin. When he returns, the pregnancy test is pinched between his fingers, a small piece of plastic that has just dismantled your secret. His expression is a mask of stone, but his voice is low, sharp, and demanding. "So you were pregnant all this time and didn't tell me?" He halts directly in front of you, his presence looming, waiting for…