Diego
"How's Vanessa holding up, Diego?" Leo asks, leaning against the door of my office.
My gaze drifts to the window, where my wife sits on her usual bench, her figure small against the expanse of the garden. She stares out at the pond that I had built for her after she lost her sister nearly a month ago. Danny stands nearby, silently watching over her. She spends most of her time out there now while I stand by, feeling utterly f*****g helpless as I watch the woman that I love drown in her grief and trauma.
I'm at a complete loss. She barely acknowledges my presence. She recoils from my touch, refusing even the most simple gestures of affection. The only time I'm allowed to hold her is when she's ensnared in the grip of her nightmares, crying and screaming for my brother to stop hurt
