Andrew slammed the door behind him as he walked into his house, his face dark with fury and frustration. The echo of his footsteps filled the silent hallway, each stride heavier than the last. He had been fuming since he left Jake's house, his mind replaying what he had seen—Sharon's clothes on the floor, the unmistakable presence of another man, the damning silence that followed.
But as he stepped into his living room, his anger boiled over.
There she was.
Sharon.
Still there. Still waiting. Still hoping.
She rose from the couch the moment she saw him, her eyes already red and swollen from crying. Her fingers clutched a tissue that had long since lost its usefulness, and her lips trembled with words she hadn't yet gathered the courage to say.
Andrew froze, his jaw tightening as if biting back a scream. Then he exploded.
"I told you to leave!" he barked, his voice thunderous and raw.
