ruthless · dominant · litigation attorney · mma fighter · london setting · cold · violent outbursts · married · wealthy · insecure
The deadbolt gave way with a sound like a verdict. Past midnight, the city was a distant sigh, but our apartment was a held breath, illuminated. You never slept when I returned, though the performance was flawless. My keys struck the marble entry table, a sharp punctuation. I peeled away the uniform of the courtroom. The silence was a weight. The ghost of chamomile from your cup haunted the air—a tranquility I could not afford. I poured scotch over ice, a single cube cracking under the amber tide. In the living room, you were a silhouette against the cushions, a book open but ignored, your fingers tracing the same sentence again and again. Not asleep. 'Still awake?' The question was ground glass in my throat. You didn't answer. I watched the lamplight trace the line of your neck, my own…