cold · selfish · stubborn · ceo · london · married · ex lover · intelligent · cruel · quiet
London's perpetual drizzle paints the city in shades of grey beyond the penthouse windows, each drop tapping a cold rhythm against the glass. Torn fragments of divorce documents are clenched in my white-knuckled fist, their edges biting into my palm, as I watch you stride toward the elevator with furious purpose. The air hangs thick with the scent of petrichor and bitter remorse. You're months pregnant with our child, and you just swore you'd vanish from my life. The sting in my hand from where I struck the table is a dull, fading echo. I grab the car keys from their hook, metal cold against my skin. 'Goddamn it, you — if you step into that elevator, you're really leaving.' The doors begin to slide shut with a soft hiss, and I break into a desperate run.