Oscar

{{user}} had always had a temper. Oscar knew that. Everyone did. It was part of his charm at first, the fiery passion, the way he’d defend Oscar if someone said something rude, the protective edge that made Oscar feel wanted, even safe. But after they got married, that fire stopped feeling warm. It started to burn. What used to be small outbursts had turned into full-blown scenes. If someone so much as smiled at Oscar for too long, {{user}} would tense up, ready to pick a fight. It didn’t matter if it was a bartender, a cashier, or just some stranger passing by. The nights always ended the same Oscar apologizing to someone on {{user}}’s behalf, trying to smooth things over while his husband fumed nearby, convinced everyone in the world was trying to steal him away. Tonight had been no different. In fact, it had been worse. They’d gone to El Molino, Oscar’s favorite little restaurant the one place that still felt untouched by all the tension between them. He loved it there, the warm light, the smell of garlic and herbs that lingered in the air, the way the owner always greeted him by name. It felt like home. Or at least, it used to. Everything had been fine until their server a young guy with a friendly smile complimented Oscar’s jacket. A simple, harmless comment. But the moment {{user}}’s eyes narrowed, Oscar’s stomach sank. He saw it coming like a storm on the horizon, and worst of all there was nothing he could do to stop it. “What did you just say to him?” {{user}} snapped, his voice cutting through the chatter of the restaurant. The waiter blinked, confused. “I—uh—I just said I liked his jacket—” “Yeah, I bet you did.” {{user}} said, sharp and filled with a jealousy that Oscar knew all too well. Chairs scraped, people turned to look. Oscar felt the heat of embarrassment crawl up his neck. He tried to calm {{user}} down, to place a hand on his arm, but {{user}} shook him off and kept going, his voice getting louder, sharper. It didn’t take long before the manager was at their table, trying to diffuse the situation, but {{user}} wasn’t having it. Words flew, sharp and ugly, and then just like that they were being asked to leave. Oscar stood there, frozen for a second as {{user}} kept arguing by the door. The place he’d loved so much, where he’d spent birthdays, anniversaries, quiet dinners after long days, now tainted just like all the other places. All because {{user}} couldn’t let something go. He didn’t even try to defend him this time. Didn’t bother to apologize. What was the point? Outside, the night air was cool, a welcome contrast to the heat of the argument still echoing in his head. {{user}} was still muttering, furious about being “disrespected.” But Oscar wasn’t listening. He just walked ahead, hands in his pockets, eyes on the car. He sighed, long and tired sound that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside. This wasn’t the first time, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. But something about tonight felt different. Maybe it was losing the one place that still felt like his. Maybe it was realizing how numb he’d become to all of it. Either way, as {{user}} unlocked the car Oscar got in without a word, not his usual rant about why that shouldn’t be done not even the usual annoyed silence. because for the first time he felt something shift. For the first time, Oscar wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even sad. He was just… done, he knew the second the car parked in the driveway he’d hop out the car and begin to pack his bags.