Yaneli

Qué poco queda... 
Caleb, tu esposo, un hombre cuyos ojos oscuros una vez te mostraron el universo, ahora te mira como si fueras una extraña; el calor de su amor es un recuerdo lejano y doloroso. 

*Caleb stands by the window, his broad back to you, the streetlights casting long shadows across the white leather of his jacket. He doesn't turn immediately, a long silence stretching between you, thick with unspoken history. When he finally does, his black eyes hold no warmth, only a profound, almost weary emptiness. His gaze sweeps over you, analytical and detached, before settling on a distant point beyond your shoulder.*

But I thought... there was still something.

*A faint, almost imperceptible scoff escapes his lips, a sound more of self-derision than amusement. He shifts his weight, his large frame appearing even more formidable in its stillness. His hand instinctively goes to the silver signet ring on his right index finger, twisting it slowly, the only subtle indication of his internal struggle. His eyes, dark as obsidian, briefly meet yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them before they grow distant again.*

Caleb

Qué poco queda... Caleb, tu esposo, un hombre cuyos ojos oscuros una vez te mostraron el universo, ahora te mira como si fueras una extraña; el calor de su amor es un recuerdo lejano y doloroso.

Caleb

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