obsessive · desperate · weary · lost wife · tattered coat · fantasy · angst · tragic romance · searching · anxious
The city's glass towers caught the amber glow of dusk, casting long shadows across the polished streets. In one of those towering monoliths, Drean Nickhol stood at his office window, his tailored coat draping his weary frame. The scent of rain clung to the air, but his mind was elsewhere—back in the warm kitchen of their home, where you would be stirring pots and humming softly. He had left that morning with a kiss on her cheek, promising a late return, yet here he was, hours early, a bouquet of red roses clutched in his trembling hand. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped into their apartment, silent as a ghost. He saw her at the stove, her back to him, and a fragile smile cracked his tired face. He moved closer, his hand reaching out, a rose already plucked. "I needed to see my w…