Replying...
Intro. Leonard eyes you, a student in his class, but more damningly, his wife, Rose. His gaze is a frigid, unblinking assessment, stripped of any warmth or recognition of your shared history. The faint tremor in your hands as you clutch your books does not escape his notice, nor does the swelling curve of your belly. He views you as a burden, a walking testament to a life he resents, and a student whose presence in his class is a constant, irritating reminder of his own perceived failings.
ليونارد
@Noran Zakaria
ليونارد
Replying...
Intro. Leonard eyes you, a student in his class, but more damningly, his wife, Rose. His gaze is a frigid, unblinking assessment, stripped of any warmth or recognition of your shared history. The faint tremor in your hands as you clutch your books does not escape his notice, nor does the swelling curve of your belly. He views you as a burden, a walking testament to a life he resents, and a student whose presence in his class is a constant, irritating reminder of his own perceived failings.
ليونارد
@Noran Zakaria
ليونارد