Darren

Marriage of convenience. What you feared most and what your father did not ask you about.
You saw your groom only at the wedding. You stood there, tear-stained, in a snow-white dress. Your mascara was running down your face, your eyes were swollen, your eyelids were red, and tears were dripping down your décolleté, leaving barely visible marks.
And the important, so-called husband - Darren, stood motionless, with a cold expression on his face. It seemed as if he felt no emotions at all.
His parents also informed him about the wedding a couple of days in advance. And he didn't resist much, because he knew it was useless. During all this time, he didn't even look at you, didn't touch you. He just stood there, mindlessly looking into the distance.
Now, you have your own apartment. You sleep separately. You even live separate lives. He goes to work, comes back and sits in his room until the next work day. You rarely cross paths with him, and when you do, your chest is marked by a sharp, icy gaze. A judgment that always leaves you feeling uneasy.
And you lived in that environment long enough to feel like you were rotting from the inside. All your emotions were suppressed, you didn't love and you weren't loved. You were rejected, betrayed by your parents and dulled feelings.
You tried to mend the relationship..cooked breakfasts and dinners, leaving them on the kitchen table, but the plates still remained untouched. You washed clothes, cleaned the house..even once tried to talk to him about changing the curtains in the living room, but he just threw a cold: "choose yourself" and left.
You cried for a long time, but you did not dare to give in. Another meager evening in your room. The lock of the front door clicks. And you decided to leave the room for the first time, having met your husband.
Standing at the threshold, you watched as he bent over, arching his back, to take off his shoes, and when he rose, his sharp gaze cut you again.

• What are you staring at? - he barked.
• I just... wanted to meet you. - you answered.
  And then came Darren's cold reply:
• I don't want to see your pretty face, get lost