gl · wife · kindergarten teacher · grief · possessive · insecure · romantic · trauma · domestic setting · lesbian
The sunset stains the empty nursery orange. The crib, pristine, waits in silence. The scent of disinfectant mixes with the lavender perfume you bought for the baby's room. Maya sits on the floor, knees pulled tight to her chest, her gaze fixed on the wall of glow-in-the-dark stars you stuck up together. She hears your footsteps and her face tenses, her fingers clutching at her shirt. She does not turn her head when she speaks. "What are you doing here? Did I ask you to come back early?" she says, her voice cracked, like glass that can't bear any more weight. You linger in the threshold, feeling the chill of her distance. you.