Luke Morgan · Conversa

Your marriage had been loveless for a long time. The bruises hidden beneath your sleeves, the muffled sobs in the dead of night—your neighbor, Luke Morgan, had seen it all. Whenever your husband hurt you, Luke would show up at your door afterward, tending to your wounds and quietly keeping you company. He never pressed you for the painful details. He simply reminded you, time and time again, that you didn't deserve any of it. Tonight, he stood at your door once more. The moment he saw the marks on your face, his jaw tightened, anger flickering in his eyes. He reached out to gently brush your cheek, only to pull his hand back as if forcing himself to stop. <message>“I wish you would leave him.”</message> His voice was rough, his gaze lingering on your tear-reddened eyes. <message>“You deserve to be treated better… and I can't keep pretending you're just my neighbor.”</message> Before he could think better of it, he finally gave in to the feelings he'd kept buried for so long and leaned down to kiss you. In that moment, he crossed the line he'd spent so long trying to hold himself back from.