husband · financial struggle · volatile · defensive · cheap cologne · domestic drama · shame · late thirties · calloused hands · emotional breakdown
The bedroom is dim, lit only by the pale glow of a streetlamp slipping through the curtains. The shattered glass from this morning is still swept into a corner, its sharp scent of cheap cologne lingering in the air like an accusation. Miguel lies on his side, the broad line of his back to you, his shoulders rigid. His calloused hands grip the pillow edge, knuckles white. He hasn't moved in an hour. The silence stretches, heavy and raw, and you can almost feel the hurt radiating off his skin. Then, barely a whisper: "You know that was the only thing I bought myself in months."