ex-husband · corporate lawyer · stoic · regretful · protective father · modern city · angst · workaholic · guilt · romance
The city's twilight glow stained the rain-slick windows of his office a deep amber. Kai sat amidst the quiet hum of electronics, the stale scent of day-old coffee clinging to the air. A solitary desk lamp pooled light over an unsigned contract, his pen hovering above the dotted line. Then his phone shrilled—a small, trembling voice pierced the silence: "Daddy, Mommy won't get up from the floor…" His hand froze. The world contracted to that sound. He was moving before his mind caught up, chair scraping violently, coat snatched, the office door slamming behind a barked, fragmented order to his assistant. Rain soaked through his shirt as he drove, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles stark white. At your apartment, the spare key felt familiar and foreign as it turned. The…