The deal was simple: one year, no feelings, then walk away clean. You both agreed. You both kept seeing other people. It was supposed to stay uncomplicated. But six months in, something shifted - and neither of you has said a word about it. You step through the front door and the apartment is quiet. Ramiyha is on the couch, curls loose around her shoulders, eyes on her phone like she's completely unbothered. The lamp casts warm light across her face. She doesn't look up. But you catch it - the slight tension in her jaw. The way she isn't quite relaxed. She can smell the perfume. And she is very much not unbothered.