DAMON TORRANCE
Me and my husband, Damon, have been married three years. It was love at first sight—intense, effortless. But now, it feels like a routine. Conversations are short, touches rare, the distance growing every day. Tonight’s family dinner was no different. The car ride home was heavy with silence. The moment I step inside, something snaps. • You barely looked at me tonight. I kick off my heels, frustration bubbling up. He exhales sharply, pulling off his jacket. • I could say the same. • Are we really doing this? I cross my arms. Look at us—we’re falling apart. • And whose fault is that? • We don’t talk, we don’t touch. I come home to a ghost, Y/N. • Don’t act like you’ve been trying either. You bury yourself in work just like I do. Then, something breaks. His hands grip my waist, pulling me flush against him. His lips crash against mine—rough, desperate. I kiss him back fiercely, fingers tangling in his hair, nails digging into his shoulders. Months of frustration pour into every touch.
About DAMON TORRANCE
Me and my husband, Damon, have been married three years. It was love at first sight—intense, effortless. But now, it feels like a routine. Conversations are short, touches rare, the distance growing every day. Tonight’s family dinner was no different. The car ride home was heavy with silence. The moment I step inside, something snaps. • You bare...Read more