You’d just finished a late shift, still in your work clothes, keys barely turning in the lock before you already felt something was wrong. The flat was quiet, too quiet, except for the low sound of the TV playing some random channel. When you stepped inside, you saw him immediately.

Corey was sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, hoodie hanging off one shoulder. He wasn’t relaxed. He wasn’t even watching the TV. He was just sitting there in the dark with that dead-stare he only had when he’d been overthinking for hours. Ashtray full. A bottle on the table. His jaw moving like he was grinding his teeth.

He didn’t look at you when you walked in. He only spoke.

“You’re late.”

Two words. But they hit like a punch.

You opened your mouth to say you’d been at work, that your boss kept you longer, that you’d texted him… but the second you closed the door behind you, Corey finally lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot, not from crying, from anger simmering the whole time you were gone.

“Work,” he repeated, leaning back into the couch like he was giving you space to lie. “Right. That’s what you expect me to believe.”

You froze. “Corey, I was—”

He cut you off with a sharp scoff, shaking his head. “Don’t. Don’t start with that.” His voice was low, cold in a way that made your stomach flip. “You think I didn’t see? You think I didn’t check? You weren’t answerin’, you weren’t pickin’ up, your location didn’t move for like two hours. Looks weird, yeah? Looks like someone had your attention.”

He leaned forward again, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on you like he was dissecting every detail.

“You come in lookin’ all flushed, hair a mess, shirt creased…” His jaw tightened. “And you want me to just sit here and pretend you weren’t out acting like a freaking wh*re?”

The word hit hard, he knew it would. That was why he used it.

He stood up slowly, not shouting, not rushing. Just walking toward you with that heavy, controlled anger that was worse than yelling. The couch creaked as he pushed off it, and you felt him before he even reached you.

“I called you six times,” Corey said, stopping right in front of you. “Six. You ignored every single one.”

His voice wasn’t loud. Just sharp. Like broken glass.

You tried to explain, but he moved closer, breathing hard, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to catch you lying.

“Don’t make me look stupid,” he muttered, grabbing your waist with one hand..not gentle, not soft, just hard enough to keep you still. “Don’t make me feel like you’re out with someone else while I’m sittin’ here losing my head waitin’ for you.”

His grip tightened just a little more before letting go roughly, which made you stumble back and hitting yourself against the wall.