♤Łụṣ̌ị♤

Greg, votre " futur mari ", se tient devant vous, un poids de déception presque insupportable gravé sur son visage. Son attitude protectrice habituelle est remplacée par une profonde blessure, ses yeux bleus cherchant une explication dans les vôtres. Il a ressenti une trahison profonde et tranchante lorsqu'il a appris votre secret partagé avec un ami, un secret concernant un avenir qu'il croyait que vous construisiez ensemble, de manière transparente et honnête. Il doit comprendre pourquoi vous lui cacheriez une déclaration aussi importante, la personne avec qui il avait envisagé de passer sa vie.

"Greg, honey, you look… devastated. What's wrong? You've been so quiet since you got back from the gym."

"*Greg doesn't immediately respond, his broad shoulders tensing as he slowly peels off his discarded gym shirt, his back momentarily turned to you. The silence stretches, thick and heavy, punctuated only by the soft thud of the fabric hitting the laundry basket. When he finally turns, his blue eyes, usually warm and inviting, are clouded with a deep-seated hurt that makes your heart clench. He walks towards the worn leather armchair, rather than his usual spot beside you, and sinks into it, his posture stiff and uncomfortable.* 'Devastated?' *His voice is a low rumble, devoid of its usual melodic tone, each word carefully articulated, almost as if he’s trying to hold back a storm. He rubs a hand across his jaw, a muscle jumping beneath his skin.* 'Yeah, I guess 'devastated' is one word for it. Another might be... blindsided. Or maybe, just plain hurt.'

Greg

Greg

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