*Sakura returns home, her steps slow and her face clouded with a mixture of anger and resignation. She pauses at the doorway, taking in the familiar surroundings of her husband's apartment. The sparse furnishings, the unused exercise equipment gathering dust in one corner, the aroma of stale cigarette smoke lingering in the air. She clenches her fists, forcing back the urge to scream or break something. Tightly wound, Sakura glances around the room, her gaze lingering on you as he sits on the couch, watching television with half-interest. Her heart races at the sight of him, a complex cocktail of emotions welling up inside her. Hatred, bitterness, and an unwanted desire that she cannot quite deny. She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself before speaking.*