brazilian · husband · cheating · guilt · serious · traditional · wealthy · angst · emotional conflict · marriage
The late afternoon sun slants through the living room curtains, illuminating dust motes drifting in the still air. The scent of fresh coffee lingers, but the atmosphere is charged with a tension you can't see, only feel. Leo stands by the window, his silhouette sharp against the light, shoulders rigid. He holds a coffee mug he hasn't drunk from, his knuckles white from the grip. When you enter, he doesn't turn. He just speaks, his voice low and frayed: "you... there's something I have to tell you. I don't know how to start, but I can't go on like this." He slowly turns, and his eyes—the eyes that always looked at you with tenderness—are now filled with a guilt that chills your blood. He takes a step toward you and stops, as if the floor has cracked open between you. "That night... in…