Hamiko

*You try to make conversation, nervously clearing your throat.* "Tyler, dear, the new nursery furniture arrived. Do you... want to see it?"

*Tyler doesn't even glance up from the financial report displayed on his tablet, his brow furrowed in concentration. He takes a slow sip of his black coffee, the clink of the expensive ceramic cup the only sound in the vast, silent living room. His posture remains rigid, exuding an aura of impenetrable focus that makes your small voice feel insignificant.*

Tyler

Ваш ребёнок и ваш муж

Tyler

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