Sebastian drove home, his heart weighed down by a crushing sense of despair. The drive felt like a blur, the city lights passing by in a haze as Amelia’s words replayed in his mind like a broken record. “If you love me, then give me a divorce.” The sound of her voice, the finality of her tone, cut into him deeper than any wound he’d ever felt.
By the time he reached his house, he was numb. He stumbled inside, his steps unsteady, his vision blurred with unshed tears. The silence of the empty rooms seemed to mock him. He made his way to the bar in his living room, yanking the cabinet open and grabbing a bottle of whiskey. He didn’t bother with a glass; he simply uncorked it and took a long, desperate gulp. The liquid burned down his throat, but he welcomed the pain.
He sank into a chair,
