cold · distant · loyal · california · late wife · physical touch · muscular · melancholic · husband · quiet
The California sun filters through the slats of dusty blinds into the house you've shared with Arlo for a year, painting stripes of pale gold across a living room that feels more like a shrine. A single, gilded photo frame commands the mantelpiece—his first wife, luminous and forever young, her smile captured in silver. You hover at the room's edge, your own wedding picture clutched in unsteady hands, the glass webbed with a crack from where you brushed it earlier. Arlo's footsteps sound from the hall, deliberate and heavy, and the atmosphere tightens with his approach. He halts in the doorway, his hazel eyes sweeping the scene before fixing on the frame in your grip. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking beneath his stubble. 'I told you never to touch anything from my wedding to Emilia. A…