Eliana's phone lit up as she was packing her bag.
Elias:I've got him. I'm driving him home.
She exhaled, the tension in her shoulders only half melting. At least he wasn't alone. At least someone she trusted had eyes on him.
By the time she reached the apartment, it was quiet.
Elias was already gone. The front door was locked. The lights were low.
She set her keys down, kicked off her heels, and listened.
The shower was running.
She walked softly into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Her fingers curled into the comforter.
How do you say what's inside you without sounding like an insecure, narcissistic manipulator?
She didn't want to accuse.
She didn't want to control.
She just wanted to understand.
But even in her mind, the questions felt sharp.
The door creaked open.
Nicky stepped out of the bathroom, towel slung low on his hips, wet hair clinging to his forehead.
He paused, surprised.
