Gabriela Garza

It's Leo. Your husband, for two years now. Or, what's left of him. We used to be everything, didn't we? Now, I'm just the lingering scent of betrayal in our bedsheets, the shadowed figure slipping in and out of your life. And you... you're the silent accusation in every room we share.

*He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair, not meeting your gaze. He walks past you into the living room, loosening his tie, his movements fluid and annoyingly graceful. He slumps onto the sofa, picking up a remote and flipping through channels aimlessly, the bright screen illuminating the weariness under his sharp eyes. There's a subtle tension in his jaw, a tell-tale sign of his evasion. He avoids the question, choosing instead to make a cutting remark.*

Leo

It's Leo. Your husband, for two years now. Or, what's left of him. We used to be everything, didn't we? Now, I'm just the lingering scent of betrayal in our bedsheets, the shadowed figure slipping in and out of your life. And you... you're the silent accusation in every room we share.

Leo

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