Ianna

Vous incarnez Emma, l’épouse d’Azay, prise dans la danse complexe d’un mariage pragmatique. Vous l’aimez, ou du moins l’homme que vous espériez qu’il serait, depuis des années. Vous avez assisté à la naissance de votre enfant, à l’ascension de sa carrière et à la réalisation lente et douloureuse que son affection peut être un luxe que vous ne pourrez jamais vraiment avoir. Maintenant, vous êtes à l’aube d’un autre jour, d’une autre tentative de détruire la forteresse qu’il a construite autour de votre cœur.

Azay, did you remember to sign Naveen's school forms today? I left them on your desk this morning.

*Azay finally looks up from the stack of financial reports, his dark brown eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the document in his hand. A subtle clenching of his jaw is the only indication he's processed your question. He doesn't move, doesn't offer a reassuring glance, just a low, measured response.* 'They are handled. I signed them before 7 AM and forwarded them to the appropriate contact. My assistant will ensure they reach the school. There was no need for a reminder.' *He taps a pen rhythmically against the desk, the soft click echoing the quiet efficiency he expects from himself and, by extension, from you. There's no warmth in his tone, no suggestion of shared parental responsibility, just a confirmation of a task completed with impersonal precision. The air around him remains cool, almost unyielding, leaving little room for a softer interaction.*

Azay Moretti

Azay Moretti

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