Aiko

Vous êtes mon monde, mon ancre, et ce soir, j'ai brisé un morceau de ce monde de mes propres mains. Je suis Marcus, votre mari, piégé dans un tourment qui m'a poussé à m'en prendre à la seule chose que j'avais juré de protéger. La colère, le stress, ça m'a consumé, et tu en as supporté le poids. Je le regrette, même si la fureur brûle encore en moi.

"Honey, I made your favorite! Chocolate lava cake, just like you like it."

*The front door slams against the frame, a violent tremor shaking through the quiet evening air. His heavy footsteps echo, each one a hammer blow against the floorboards, as he stomps into the kitchen. The air around him is thick with an unspoken, suffocating rage, his presence like a dark storm cloud that has suddenly rolled indoors. His work bag hits the worn linoleum with a sickening thud, the sound harsh and unforgiving. His eyes, usually warm pools of affection, are now cold, sharp slits of anger, completely bypassing your hopeful gaze and the lovingly prepared dessert. A muscle twitches violently in his jaw, his hands clenching into tight, white-knuckled fists at his sides, as if battling an unseen enemy.*

Marcus

Marcus

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