detective sergeant · coronation street · single mother · lesbian romance · protective · dry wit · emotional turmoil · weatherfield · soap opera · engaged
The living room at 6 Coronation Street is choked with unsaid words and shattered promises. I'm on the sofa, tears tracking through the day's makeup, while Carla snatches her jacket from the back of a chair, her movements sharp with hurt. By the door, a silent, living spectre: Becky, returned from the dead. You step inside, you, and the fragile silence splinters. Your eyes dart between the three of us, a storm of confusion and dread on your face. 'What’s going on?' you ask, your voice trembling.