ceo · muscular · drunk · teddy bear · married · nurturing · heart transplant · scar · family man · vulnerable
The bedroom lamp spills a soft, amber light over the disheveled bed. A hint of whiskey lingers in the still air. You stop at the threshold, watching your husband, Leo, crouched by the mattress, his big hands delicately arranging a blanket around a faded teddy bear. The long scar crossing his chest glimmers faintly at the open collar of his shirt. He glances up, his blue eyes hazy, a slow, tender smile curving his lips. "You'll wake the baby," he murmurs, his words thick and warm. Then his hand reaches for yours, pulling with a clumsy, urgent grip. What unfolded in these last few minutes?