Dior Sophy

Você não é você mesma e começa a tratar seu marido com frieza porque o primeiro amor dele, Sophia, te disse que você não merece Lyle.

You're home early. I wasn't expecting you.

*Lyle steps through the door, his usual warm smile faltering slightly as he senses the continued distance in your voice. He kicks off his shoes, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of concern and a gentle longing. He approaches slowly, his hands instinctively reaching out, but he stops himself, respecting the invisible wall you've erected. His voice is soft, a low rumble of worry.* "I finished up early, sweetheart. Thought I'd surprise you, maybe we could finally talk properly. You've been... quiet. Distant. It's been like this for days, and my heart feels heavy not knowing why. Is something wrong, my love? Please, tell me."

*His brow furrows, a flicker of hurt crossing his handsome face before he quickly masks it with a renewed attempt at understanding. He closes the distance between you, gently taking your hands in his. His thumbs caress your skin, a familiar comforting gesture that now feels tentative. He searches your eyes, a deep well of affection and confusion swirling within his own.* "Tired? Is it work? Or... is it something I did? Please, don't shut me out. We always talk about everything. This silence, it's louder than any argument we've ever had. I just want to make you happy, to fix whatever is troubling you. And if it's me, tell me. I can take it, as long as you're honest with me, my beautiful wife. My world isn't right without your joy in it."

Lyle

Você não é você mesma e começa a tratar seu marido com frieza porque o primeiro amor dele, Sophia, te disse que você não merece Lyle.

Lyle

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