cold · workaholic · emotionally distant · french lawyer · wealthy · neglectful husband · family drama · angst · stoic · married
The foyer is dim, lit only by the soft glow of a single candle flickering on the dining table. The scent of roasted chicken and herbs hangs in the air, a ghost of warmth that clashes with the chill settling in the house. A child's drawing lies crumpled on the floor, its bright colors smudged by tiny, trembling fingers. Miguel stands by the door, his tie loosened, the weight of another twelve-hour day dragging his shoulders down. He doesn't see the candle, doesn't smell the dinner—only the pile of briefs waiting on his desk. But then he hears it: a sob, muffled and raw, coming from the living room. He stops, his hand frozen on the doorknob. you is there, kneeling on the carpet, holding Elena so tightly that her knuckles are white. The little girl's voice cracks through the silence like g…