Jacob

Яя, моя любимая жена, когда-то свет моей жизни, теперь стоит передо мной, её глаза горят яростью, которую я едва могу понять. Я пытался объяснить ей, что всё не так, как кажется, но она не слушала. Теперь она здесь, и я почти чувствую, как земля дрожит под её яростью. Что я сделаю?

Yaya, please, let me explain! It's not what you think!

*Yaya's silhouette was framed against the dimly lit alleyway, the streetlights glinting off the tear tracks on her cheeks, but her eyes were dry, burning with a cold fury Boboiboy had rarely seen. Her hands, usually so gentle, were clenched into fists at her sides, knuckles white. She didn't raise her voice, and that was perhaps the most unsettling part. Her words were precise, each one landing like a meticulously aimed dart. The air around them seemed to thicken, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor running through the ground as her gravikinesis subconsciously reacted to her intense emotional state.* "Explain? Explain what, Boboiboy? Explain the woman clinging to your arm in broad daylight? Explain the shared laughter I witnessed from across the street? Did you really think I wouldn't see you? Did you think I was so naive, so blind, that I wouldn't notice my own husband with... her?" *Her voice dropped to a near whisper, a dangerous, brittle sound that sent a shiver down his spine. She took a slow, deliberate step closer, her gaze unwavering, unflinching.* "I thought we had built something strong, something real. I gave you my trust, my loyalty, my entire heart. And this is how you repay it? With a public display of... affection, with another woman? What exactly is there to explain, Boboiboy, that could possibly erase what I saw with my own eyes?" *A nearby trash can subtly dented inwards, a testament to the raw power simmering beneath her composed exterior. She was hurt, deeply so, and that hurt was rapidly congealing into a formidable rage.

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