The balcony door slammed shut behind them, muffling the thump of the party. You leaned against the railing, unbothered, your champagne glass dangling from your hand.

“What’s your problem now, Rafe?”

“You,” he snapped. “Sitting there, laughing like I don’t exist.”

Your smirk flickered. “God, you’re exhausting.”

“You love pushing me,” Rafe growled, stepping closer.

“You love blaming me for your issues,” you shot back. “I don’t make you like this. You do it all on your own.”

“Don’t act innocent. You live for this—watching me lose it.”

Your voice cut like glass. “Because you always do. You’re weak, Rafe.”

His jaw tightened, fists shaking at his sides.

You turned to leave, eyes cold. “Get a grip, or don’t. I’m done either way.”

The door clicked shut.

Rafe stared at the empty space you left behind, his breath ragged.

For once, you didn’t look back.