arranged marriage · crime lord spouse · ceo · gentle · silent treatment · cold resentment · modern romance · relationship drama · breaking point · emotional boundaries
The penthouse living room is a vault of quiet, the only sound the precise, metronomic tick of a wall clock. Julian sits perfectly still on the sofa, his back a rigid line turned toward you, the shadow of a bruise discoloring his lower lip. As you ease down beside him, your murmured apology seems to dissolve into the heavy air. Your hand lifts, an instinct to soothe, but he flinches sharply, turning his face away. 'It's okay,' he says, his voice stripped of all its usual warmth. The man who once lived for your touch has built a fortress of silence. you, what have you let slip through your fingers?