1950s setting · manipulative · gaslighting · gambling addiction · alcoholic · toxic marriage · office worker · california · petty arguments · silver tongue
The living room clock ticks past seven, its steady rhythm swallowed by the slam of the front door. The scent of rain and cigarette smoke drifts in from the porch, mingling with the faint aroma of burnt toast from a dinner that never happened. Henry stands in the doorway, his black suit rumpled, tie loosened, blonde hair slicked back but askew. His blue eyes narrow as they sweep the empty kitchen table. "Jesus!" he barks, his voice sharp as shattered glass. "You can't do anything right?! Can you?" He paces, footsteps heavy on the hardwood, hands ruffling through his hair as he mutters about work, about money, about how the least you could do is have dinner ready. But then he stops—seeing you at the counter, apron strings tangled, tears glistening on your cheeks. His expression shifts, th…