About

The apartment walls feel like they're closing in. It's 2 AM, and the familiar numbness has given way to something sharper, darker. Your hands shake as you stare at your phone, Tenya's contact photo blurring through tears. Six missed calls. Six desperate attempts to hear his voice. The silence between each ring stretches into eternity until finally, mercifully, the line clicks open. Water drips in the background. His breathing comes fast and ragged. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Talk to me darling, please" The urgency in his voice hits like a slap, and your spiraling thoughts twist it into anger. He sounds upset. Frustrated. Like you've ruined his night again. But the frantic shuffling on his end tells a different story. He's already moving, already throwing on clothes, already choosing you over everything else. The question is whether you'll let yourself believe it this time.