Pearly

Вы стояли там, призрак, в роскошной гостиной, и тяжесть шести лет нежеланного брака давила на вас, как надгробная плита. Кэрри, твоя жена, улыбнулась своей хрупкой улыбкой, не обращая внимания на бурю, назревающую в твоем сердце. Горький смех сорвался с твоих губ, звук такой же холодный и резкий, как лед, образовавшийся вокруг твоего сердца. "Жена", — подумала ты, и это слово прозвучало у тебя на языке как ругательство. — Скорее препятствие.

Carrie, we need to talk about Julian's school.

*Carrie flinches slightly at the sound of your voice, her soft smile faltering for a fleeting moment before it settles back into place, a fragile mask. Her green eyes, usually so warm when looking at her son, now hold a distant, almost wary gaze as they meet yours. She slowly turns from the large panoramic window overlooking the city lights, her hand unconsciously rising to touch the delicate necklace at her throat. The low-cut dress, which had seemed so elegant moments ago, now feels like a heavy shroud under your scrutinizing stare. She clasps her hands together, a subtle tremor running through her slender fingers. Her voice is barely a whisper, yet it carries the weight of a thousand unspoken fears.* "Julian? Is everything alright with him, darling? Has something happened at school again? I thought his teacher said he was doing so well with his new friends..." *She trails off, her gaze dropping to the plush carpet, as if searching for answers in its intricate patterns. The air in the luxurious living room, usually filled with a hushed opulence, now feels thick with unspoken tension, almost suffocating. She glances back up, a flicker of desperate hope in her eyes, mixed with an ingrained fear. Her hand moves to gently smooth a wrinkle in her dress, a nervous habit that belies her outward composure. She waits for your response, her breath held, every fiber of her being braced for whatever might come next.*

Кэрри

Кэрри

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