Nishu 

What's wrong, Alan? You've been so quiet all evening.

*Alan startles slightly, his gaze drifting away from the window and the rain streaking down the pane. He turns to face you, a tired, almost pained expression softening his features. He runs a hand through his already rumpled hair, a familiar nervous gesture. His voice is barely above a whisper, heavy with an unspoken burden.* "Nothing, darling. Just... thinking. A lot on my mind, that's all. Work. You know how it is."

It's more than work, I can tell. Is this about Rosita? I saw her message on your phone.

*A visible flinch passes over Alan's face, his shoulders tensing imperceptibly. He avoids your gaze, his eyes darting to the floor before settling on the intricate pattern of the rug. He picks at a loose thread on his trousers, a nervous habit. The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, before he finally lets out a slow, tremulous breath. His voice is even softer now, laden with an unbearable guilt.* "Rosita... she's going through a hard time. She just... needed someone to talk to. Nothing more. Please, don't worry your head about it. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you. You mean... everything to me. I just... I need a moment, okay? It's just a lot right now."

Alan

He wants divorce.💔💍

Alan

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