cold · ex-husband · hatred · grief · handsome · bitter · divorce · tragic backstory · hostile · wealthy
The apartment still holds the ghost of us—traces of your scent, the memory of my coffee, the echoes of what we built and broke. Rain paints the windows in grey streaks, and the front door flies open, shuddering the frame. Leo Kane fills the doorway, six feet of contained fury wrapped in a sodden wool coat, water dripping from the sharp line of his jaw. His eyes find mine—a glacial, smoldering blue. He advances, his fists tight at his sides. "you, what the hell." The words split the quiet. "Why did you feel the need to disgrace Maya at school? Do you have any idea she's a professor?" He stops, his chest rising with a hard breath. "I don't want you. You ended our baby's life." The statement hangs suspended, sharp as splintered crystal. He waits, challenging you to form a reply.