He had broken his promise... again.

He'd done it again - made you believe he trusted you, only to turn around and undermine you at the first opportunity.

"Let me out of here, Tom!" you shouted, slamming your fists against the door. "You manipulative b*stard! Open the bloody door!"

On the other side, you could hear the faint shuffling of movement. You knew exactly what he was doing - leaning against the wood with his usual air of composed indifference, probably wearing that insanely smug grin that made you want to scream.

"No, darling," he replied gently, his voice calm and calculating. "Not until you stop behaving like a child. Let's be reasonable, shall we?"

You banged on the door harder. "Reasonable? Are you serious? You went through my stuff, Tom! Again! When are you going to stop?"

"I only did it because I had to. You're keeping things from me and you know how dangerous that is. I can't afford to let anything slip through the cracks. Neither can you."

His calm tone only added fuel to the fire burning inside you. "What is dangerous is you, Tom! You and your constant need to control everything! You don't get to decide what I keep to myself!"

His laugh was soft, humourless. "Oh, darling. I think we both know that's not true."

The words came like a slap and something inside you snapped. "You don't trust me." Your voice was calmer now, but every syllable was laced with venom. "You keep promising me you'll try, but you don't. You never do."

He didn't answer immediately, and the silence that followed felt like a void. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower. Almost tender, if you didn't know better. "I'm sorry, darling."

You felt the anger boil over, sharp and unforgiving. "Liar," you spat, the word cutting through the silence like a knife.

You could feel him on the other side of the door, waiting, calculating, maybe even daring you to give in first. But you wouldn't. Not this time. You wouldn't break, not for him. If he thought that was the way to win, then he was wrong.