The door slammed behind them.
Liam didn't speak. He just yanked her in by the wrist, locked the door, and turned to face her. The look in his eyes wasn't new, but it never got easier to see. There was no warmth there, Just suspicion, Anger, and Disgust.
"Is that how it is now?" His voice was low but sharp. "You've started seeing other men?"
Naya blinked, startled. "Liam, no—what? I don't know that man. I didn't even—"
He cut her off with a sharp laugh. "Don't lie to me, Naya. I saw the way he looked at you. You're already enjoying attention from outside, aren't you? That's what you've been wanting."
"I didn't mean for that to happen," she said quickly, voice cracking. "Please believe me. I wasn't even—"
"Shut up!" he shouted, voice rising now. "Just shut the hell up."
She flinched. He didn't hit her. But his words landed like blows, and he knew that. He stared at her like she was filth. Then, with a grunt, he pushed her out of the way and walked to the sofa. He dropped into it, picked up his phone, and acted like she didn't exist.
Naya stood frozen for a moment, arms crossed like they could hold her together. Her chest rose and fell in quick breaths. Her legs moved before her thoughts could catch up.
She walked over and squatted in front of him. Quietly. Slowly. She reached out for his hand, but he swatted hers away like it burned him.
Her heart squeezed.
Still, she didn't move.
Her voice came out thin, trembling. "Liam… I'm sorry. I love you, and you know that. I shouldn't have questioned you earlier. I just… I was tired. I wasn't thinking straight. Please don't be mad."
He didn't answer.
He stood up and walked into the bedroom.
She stayed crouched for a second, then slowly pushed herself up and followed.
When she entered the room, he was undressing. Shirt off, pants halfway down. He didn't look at her until he was bare from the waist up.
Then he did.
"Get on the bed."
She stood there, her fingers tightening around the hem of her blouse. "Liam, I— I don't…"
"I thought you said you loved me?" he snapped. "Didn't you just say you're sorry? Or was that just talk?"
Her breath caught. "No. I meant it."
"So get on the damn bed. Or are you giving excuses now?"
She hesitated only a moment longer, then slowly undressed.
She climbed onto the bed.
What followed wasn't love, not even connection. Liam didn't kiss her, didn't look at her face. He used her like a body, no care for her pain nor pleasure. No pause. No gentleness.
When he was done, he rolled off and left her lying there, staring at the ceiling.
The ache in her chest grew louder than the one in her body. And still, she said nothing.
She rose quietly and went to clean up, the same way she always did.
Alone.
---
By the time she returned to the bedroom, Liam was already in bed, back turned, his breath even. Asleep, like nothing had happened.
She dressed in silence, pulling on her pajamas with careful movements. The room felt heavier somehow, like it was holding its breath. Her stomach rumbled, as if to remind her that she hadn't eaten since morning.
Naya slipped out to the kitchen. The hum of the fridge, the low creak of the cabinet door, everything felt louder in the quiet. She found a pack of ramen, boiled some water, and waited.
The meal was simple, salty, warm. She wasn't hungry, not really, but her body needed something to fill the ache.
When she finally returned to bed, the sheets were cold on her side. She laid there, still and staring at the ceiling, Her mind drifted to the parking lot, to the man with the gray eyes and confidence. The way he stepped in without hesitation, the calmness in his voice, the way his gaze had settled on her like he saw too much. And how she'd snapped at him, like a wounded thing. She sighed.
"It was nothing," she whispered into the dark. "Just a chance encounter. I won't see him again."
Still, his face lingered in her thoughts longer than she meant for it to.
Eventually, her eyes grew heavy. The ache in her chest dulled, and little by little, the world slipped out of focus. Sleep took her slow and full of things unsaid.