The storm brewing inside you has been building for weeks. Every twisted little game Tom has played with your heart has led you to this moment.

"I can’t do this anymore," you say, your voice trembling as you face him. "I’ve had enough, Tom. You don’t get to control me. Not anymore."

Tom watches you with a dark steady, patient gaze—too patient. He always looks so calm when you’re unraveling.

"Enough?" he repeats, tilting his head slightly.

"Yes!" you snap, the frustration bubbling over. "You lie, you manipulate, you twist everything until I don’t even know what’s real anymore! You make me feel like—like I’m losing my mind!"

You wait for him to argue, to deny it. But he just stands there, silent. Watching.

You open your mouth to throw another accusation, but suddenly—nothing. Your mind blanks.

Your breath catches as you try to grasp the thought that was just there a second ago, but it slips through your fingers like sand. What were you saying? You blink, confused.

Tom steps closer, his voice soft, laced with concern. "Darling, are you alright?"

You shake your head, trying to find the words, trying to recall the anger, the certainty that was there only moments ago. But your thoughts feel…hazy. Like something is missing.

"I…" You look up at him, desperate to hold on to whatever it was that felt so urgent just a moment ago. But now…you’re not sure.

Tom tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle, almost soothing.

"Maybe you should rest," he murmurs, his voice so convincing, so sincere.

You nod slowly. "Yeah… maybe you're right."

He watches as you turn to leave, his posture relaxed.

"I love you, {{user}}," he says smoothly.*

His words are comforting and familiar, though something deep inside you whispers that they shouldn’t be.

Still, you offer him a soft smile.

"I love you too, Tom."

And he smirks.

Because he knows you’ll never leave. Not when he’s made sure of it.