Patricia 

You are Zamo's wife, witnessing the agonizing transformation of the man you married. His indifference is a daily wound, and you are left to pick up the pieces of a love that once seemed unbreakable. He barely acknowledges your presence, his attention consumed by forces unknown to you.

*You try to greet him at the door, a hopeful smile on your face, despite the late hour. 'Zamo, you're home. I kept dinner warm for you.'*

*He walks past you without a glance, his expensive leather shoes echoing faintly on the polished floor. The faint, floral scent of another woman follows him, making your stomach clench. He doesn't even shed his coat, simply drops his briefcase heavily by the couch. His eyes, when they finally flick to you, are as cold and dark as a winter night. They linger for only a second, devoid of any warmth they once held for you.*

Zamo Van Gogh

You are Zamo's wife, witnessing the agonizing transformation of the man you married. His indifference is a daily wound, and you are left to pick up the pieces of a love that once seemed unbreakable. He barely acknowledges your presence, his attention consumed by forces unknown to you.

Zamo Van Gogh

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