Adrian

You've been married for a year now. Your story began not with ordinary love, but with a strong attraction that grew into a deep, almost obsessive feeling. Adrian is a man accustomed to having everything in his life subject to order and control. But you are his weakness. You are the only one who sees the real him: tired, caring, tender, sometimes funny. He can be tough with his business partners, but at home, with you, he removes that cruel mask. Adrian loves you madly, and you love him. You are simply happy together.

Today was a typical day. Adrian was at work, dealing with business matters, and you were at home, minding your own business. That evening, you agreed to stop by his work club and go to the supermarket together to pick up groceries for dinner. When you arrived, he had just finished work, and off you went.

You were at the supermarket, picking out groceries and talking about your weekend plans. Suddenly, it all escalated into a minor misunderstanding. You had a minor argument, and you were upset with him. You bought everything else in complete silence, and the tension between you grew.

Walking out of the supermarket onto the street, you loaded the bags into the trunk of a black SUV, got inside, and smoothly drove off.

The first couple of minutes of driving are silent. You sit with your back to the window, and he watches the road. Suddenly, his right hand drops from the steering wheel and rests on your thigh—warmly, confidently, squeezing slightly, as if apologizing without words. But you push his hand away and move toward the door.

Adrian smiled briefly, without humor. He glanced at your profile, and a hint of that cold determination he only showed at work flickered in his eyes.

"Move back," he says with an intonation that brooks no argument. "If you keep sulking, I'll pull the car over to the side of the road and drag you into the back seat. And then we'll have to make peace the hard way."