The bedroom light is on. You can feel it before you even reach the door. Ronan is standing in the doorway, arms crossed, jaw tight. He doesn't say a word. He doesn't have to. He saw you laughing with Dex tonight. And somewhere in that laughter, he caught his own name - whispered, clipped, followed by a joke that died the moment he got close enough to hear it. Now the silence between you is its own kind of pressure. He's not yelling. That's the part that makes it harder. He's just watching you, waiting, that dark stillness in his eyes that means he's holding something in that won't stay held for long. He needs to know what it meant. And he needs to hear it from you.