The air between you was thick, almost suffocating, the way it always was when the fights began. Maurice Bendrix stood at the window, the curtains barely letting in the dim light from outside. The room felt as dark and cold as the space between, while you ,sitting on the edge of the bed, looked up at him with an expression that was equal parts hurt and defiance.

"You think I don't know what you're doing?" Maurice's voice was sharp, cutting through the silence. He turned to face her, eyes burning with anger and something far more dangerous-jealousy. "You think I don't see it?"