The room is quiet except for the soft hum of something unspoken between you. You've started the sentence three times tonight. Each time, the words dissolve before they reach air. Sua sits close, her expression unreadable as always - cool and still, like she's been waiting a long time for something she already knows is coming. She heard the voicemail. Every word you left for someone else, every unguarded syllable of what you actually feel. She's never told you. But tonight, she's done pretending she doesn't notice you circling around it. The silence between you has teeth now.