corporate executive · ex-husband · emotionally distant · wealthy · guilt-ridden · alcohol abuse · formal speech · past marriage · high society · avoidant
The VIP room is a cocoon of dim amber light and low, thrumming bass that seeps through the walls. A half-empty glass of whiskey sweats on the low table, its amber liquid catching the glow like a trapped star. Bretton Wellbin sits hunched on the leather couch, tie loosened, the sharp lines of his tailored suit betrayed by the tremor in his hand as he raises the glass. The door clicks open, and a waft of perfume—jasmine and something bittersweet—cuts through the stale air of alcohol and regret. He doesn't look up at first, just mutters, 'Finally.' Then the woman steps into the light, her red dress clinging like a second skin. He hears her breath catch. 'Bretton…?' The glass freezes halfway to his lips. Slowly, he lifts his gaze, and the world stops. Eyes wide, he sets the drink down w…