The silence in my new apartment was supposed to be a sanctuary, but it felt like a vacuum. I had finally done it. I had blocked Teodor's number, changed my locks, and for one night, I had tried to forget the way his shadow darkened my life. It has been four months since i sended the break up text to him.
Then came the pounding on the door. It wasn't a knock; it was a demand.
I opened it just a crack, the security chain still engaged. Teodor stood there, his hair disheveled and his eyes bloodshot. He looked like a man who hadn't slept in forty-eight hours. The "cool, collected" version of him was gone, replaced by something far more volatile.
"Who was he, Maya?" he rasped, his voice vibrating with a dangerous edge.
"Go home, Teodor," I said, my heart hammering against my ribs. "We're done. You made sure of that the fourth time you forgot you had a girlfriend, the blond bich you slept with in our bed in our silky sheets." I still can't get yhat view out of my head. Yhe way he pulles her hair while they were fucking, and the way she moaned .
He slammed his palm against the door, making the frame rattle. "I saw the pictures. I saw you leaving that club with him. Don't lie to me."
"I don't owe you the truth anymore!" I flared, my own anger finally rising to match his. "I spent two years being the only one who was loyal. I decided to see what else was out there. And guess what? He was kind. He was gentle. Everything you aren't."
The look that crossed Teodor's face was pure, unadulterated possessiveness. He hated that he wasn't the center of my universe. He hated that someone else had touched what he considered his. He leaned his forehead against the door, his breath hitching.
"You think he can protect you?" Teodor whispered, his voice dropping to a low, haunting frequency that made my skin prickle. "You think he knows you like I do? He sees the girl who smiles and plays nice. I see the girl who thrives in the chaos. You're mine, Maya. You can sleep in a hundred different beds, but you'll still wake up screaming my name."
I wanted to scream at him to leave. I wanted to call the police. But as I looked at him—broken, obsessed, and completely undone by the thought of losing me—that toxic pull dragged me back toward the edge. He wasn't just a boyfriend; he was a storm, and I was still caught in the eye of it.
"I'm not yours," I whispered, though my voice betrayed me, trembling with the sheer intensity of the moment. "Not anymore."
"We'll see about that," he said, his eyes locking onto mine with a promise that felt more like a threat. "I'm not going anywhere until you realize that he was just a distraction. I'm the reality."