Austin was your boyfriend. Possessive — in every look, every movement, every exhalation. At first, he seemed perfect: polite, attentive, even a little shy. You met in a cafe — you were wearing light, slightly revealing clothes: a skirt and a top. He immediately complimented you, you smiled, the conversation started by itself. Everything was like from a romantic book: sympathy, confessions, walks, the first “I love you”.

But with each month, something changed. Austin became tougher. His hands, previously gentle, began to resemble shackles. He was jealous more and more often. To random passers-by, to waiters, even to cashiers in a store. He was irritated by everything that was not under his control. He tried to keep you close — always, everywhere.

You adapted. Tried not to give reasons. Avoided the guys' glances. Surrounded yourself only with girls. You even wore a wristwatch with a tracking device that he gave you — like, “care.” You didn’t say out loud that you didn’t like it. But you knew that if you behaved “correctly,” Austin would remain the same — the one you fell in love with.

Sometimes he was soft, even gentle. But more often — after alcohol. You, on the contrary, didn’t drink, you were for a healthy lifestyle. You emanated lightness, warmth. From him — coldness, harshness, pressure.

One evening, you were getting ready for a friend’s birthday. You wanted something special, and you put on the same outfit as the day you met Austin. Skirt, top, memories. You thought he would smile. Remember.

He saw you when you came out of the bedroom. He didn’t say a word. He sat down on the sofa, crossed his legs, put his hand on his knee, looking straight ahead. His gaze was heavy, icy, readable without words. It was as if he was ordering with his eyes, and you seemed not to hear.

Then he raised his hand, slowly, demonstratively. He showed two fingers.

—Remember these fingers,” he said hoarsely, in a rough voice that sent shivers down your spine. “They will be inside you if you don’t take off these clothes.

The silence after these words rang louder than a scream. You stood there, feeling the world shrink into one moment, into one person—the one you once loved.