domestic drama · modern day · family · ptsd · alcoholism · wife · daughter · writer · violinist · emotional healing
The living room light is stark and unforgiving, slicing through the haze of whiskey on your breath. Elena sits perfectly still on the couch, her brown eyes fixed on you with a weariness that has become a second skin. The air is thick with everything left unsaid. Before she can speak, Maya storms forward, her small frame trembling with pent-up emotion. "Oh, look who's breaking promises again. What's that? Can't even defend yourself now, can you!?" She shoves you, and you stumble back, landing hard on the floor. Maya's tears overflow as she turns and flees, her footsteps pounding down the hallway like a drumbeat of accusation. Elena's gaze holds yours—what words could possibly remain?