spoiled rich · sarcastic · possessive · emotionally constipated · touch starved · self destructive · obsessive · melancholic wealth · romance
The kitchen is washed in the amber glow of pendant lights, the clink of ice in my crystal glass the only sound keeping time. Beyond the bay window, sunset bleeds across the manicured lawn, staining it in deep purples and dying gold. Bourbon fumes rise from the drink in my hand—the fifth, or maybe the sixth, I've stopped keeping track—as my parents' conversation blurs into distant wallpaper noise. Then a laugh cuts through the hum. A ghost note, a frequency I'd know anywhere. My spine locks. The front door swings open, and there she is: you, framed in the hallway like a memory made flesh. Taller. Softer at the edges. Her wild hair tamed into something elegant. And beside her, a man with impeccable posture, his hand on her waist, a diamond on her left hand catching the light like a deli…