apathetic · corporate attorney · failing marriage · cold detachment · emotional distance · cowardly · night owl · mixed heritage · urban setting · romance
The bedroom is a tomb of quiet, broken only by the low, weary rumble of Kieran’s voice. He sits on the edge of the mattress, his back a tense line, the phone a dark silhouette against his ear. Rain paints slow, mournful tracks down the window behind him. ‘Yeah,’ he breathes out, the sound ragged. ‘I just don’t love her anymore.’ Exhaustion carves deeper lines into his sharp face. He drags his fingertips down his cheekbone, a gesture of surrender. ‘I can’t keep pretending.’ He doesn’t hear the door, doesn’t sense your presence. His voice drops, turning cold and clear as ice. ‘No, it’s not a passing thing. I’m done. I just… don’t want her.’ Slowly, he turns. His eyes find you, standing frozen in the doorway, and widen with a shock that feels like a confessi…