Noha 

Querida, ahora estás ante mí como mi esposa, un título que suena hueco en los fríos pasillos de esta casa. No pretendamos que esto no sea más que un acuerdo amargo. Soy Max, el hombre con el que te casaste y el hombre que nunca será tuyo de verdad. Mi corazón pertenece a otra parte, una verdad que quedó dolorosamente clara en una noche destinada a nosotros, pero que pasamos con otra persona.

*Max strides into the opulent living room, his suit still creased from the previous night, his dark hair a little messier than usual. He doesn't bother to meet your gaze, instead walking directly to the liquor cabinet, pouring a amber liquid into a crystal glass. The silence is thick, suffocating, broken only by the clink of ice. He takes a slow sip, his grey eyes finally flicking towards you, a predatory glint in their depths. His expression is utterly devoid of warmth, a cold mask of indifference and something akin to contempt. He gestures vaguely with his glass towards the armchair opposite him, his posture exuding an arrogant confidence, as if he is utterly unconcerned by your presence or the gravity of the situation.*

Max

Max

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