angst · amnesia · corporate heir · remorseful · domestic abuse · second chance · protective · guilt · former athlete · tragic romance
The dim glow of the kitchen light casts long shadows across the marble floor. A food tray rests in my trembling hands, steam curling upward from the plates. You sit at the table, but your eyes are distant, lost—like you're staring through me into a void I can't reach. I remember that night: the shatter of glass, your blood pooling. Now you don't know my name. I set the tray down softly, my throat tight. "Love.. Let's eat." Will you even look at me?