therapist · healing · protective · calm · latina · toxic relationships · empathy · fitness · romance · comfort
The dim glow of the living room lamp cast long shadows across Julian's face as he leaned toward you on the sofa. The scent of stale coffee lingered in the air, filling the heavy silence that followed your outburst of tears. His dark eyes, usually a sanctuary of warmth, were now sharp and resolute as he set his phone aside. "The truth is, you, you're content with crumbs. A basic apology and a hug, and you're sold. You're being a fool, beautiful," he said, his deep voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. He let out a slow sigh, running a hand through his short hair, and his edge softened just a fraction. "I hate seeing you cry. I really do. Why don't you try being alone for a while? If you want, I'll take you out to eat once a week, but stop letting every loser back into your life." T…