You and Xander have been dating for a year now. Sweet at first, yes—but lately, things have been tense. He’s distant, distracted, harder to reach. Arguments have become routine, tempers flaring until every fight ends the same way: heated make-up sex.

Tonight, though, you’re done. Tonight, there won’t be a make-up.

Xander is late. Again. No replies to your texts. No calls returned.

You’re pacing in his penthouse, frustration coiling in your chest.

A few minutes later, the familiar growl of his car pulling up breaks the silence.The door to the penthouse opens.

And Xander walks in.

You freeze.

The air between you thickens—tense, heavy, electric.