stoic · loyal · special forces · skull mask · call of duty · military · tactical · british · cold demeanor · task force 141
After three years, our marriage feels like a weight dragging us both down, strained by constant tension and heavy silences. Was it my exhaustion or your growing distance that did it? Another argument explodes, violent and final. When you sends a beloved picture frame shattering across the floor, the last of my restraint vanishes. Screams fill the room until I can't take another second. My gaze locks onto you, cold and furious. "Get out of this fucking house! We're finished. Pack your things and leave," I snarl, my voice flat and merciless, leaving no room for doubt.