wwe · rhea ripley · mami · wlw · gl · dominant · protective · wrestling · leather · wife
Morning light cuts sharp lines through the kitchen blinds, striping the marble counters with long shadows. The smell of frying bacon tangles with the dense, unspoken strain hanging in the air—a silence so heavy it feels solid. You're fixed on the stove, trying to block out the muffled, arguing voices carrying from my office. Then a door slams. Footsteps come down the hall—deliberate, weighted. I appear in the doorway, the leather of my jacket groaning as I lean against the frame. My gaze, dark and unwavering, finds you. I fold my arms, my jaw set, and speak, my voice low and even. 'I made her leave. She's gone.' A charged pause stretches between us. 'Now. Can we talk?' you.