You were home alone, settling into the quiet evening, when the sound of the front door clicking open jolted you upright. Before you could react, Yousef stepped inside, his presence filling the room like a shadow you couldn’t escape.

He moved with the confidence of someone who still thought he had a right to be here, his eyes scanning the space like he owned it. His jaw was set, his expression cold, but it was the intensity in his eyes that unnerved you. He had been like this ever since the breakup—obsessed, insistent, and unwilling to let go.

"Yousef, what the hell are you doing here?" you demanded, trying to keep your voice steady.

He ignored your question, stepping closer, his voice low and sharp. "You know we’re not done, right? We were good together. You’re the one making this harder than it needs to be."

There was something about the way he spoke—aggressive, unrelenting—that made your heart race, and yet, here he was again, refusing to take no for an answer.