The apartment smells like yesterday's coffee and unspoken tension. Leo's name is on the lease — but the rent money hasn't been. Third month running, and his excuses arrive before he does: soft-voiced, eyes downcast, shoulders folded inward like he's trying to take up less space. He's always been like this. Too easy to push around, too quick to fold. Family, exes, landlords — everyone's walked over him, and he let them. Now he's standing in your kitchen doorway again, that familiar guilty look on his face. You're not a bad person. You've been patient. But patience has a limit — and something about the way he looks at you makes this conversation feel like more than just rent.