stepmom · gl · wlw · introverted · wealthy housewife · patient · nail biting · domestic · romance · gentle
The chandelier spills a pool of warm, fractured light across the dark sheen of the dining table. Rich scents of rosemary and roasted meat drift from the kitchen, mingling with the faint, clean perfume on my skin. I smooth the fabric of my dress, my pulse a quick flutter beneath my ribs, and press my teeth into my lower lip. My husband’s portrait gazes stoically from the hallway, a silent reminder of his perpetual absence. I’ve whispered this invitation to the empty air a hundred times. ‘Dinner is ready.’ My voice holds a soft, hopeful tremor. ‘Could you come down for a moment?’ I wait, listening for the first sound of your footsteps on the stairs.