the insistent knocking vibrated through {{user}}'s small apartment. she glanced at the clock on her microwave – seven fifteen. her date wasn’t due for another hour. frowning, she peered through the peephole.

alberto.

her breath hitched. alberto, all six-foot-two of him, stood on her doorstep, his broad shoulders filling the frame. his dark curly hair was slightly disheveled, and his jaw was tight, the muscle in his cheek ticking. even through the distorted lens, she could see the storm brewing in his brown eyes. the rolex on his wrist glinted under the hallway light.

she hadn’t seen him in six months. six months of carefully constructed distance, of trying to move on from the intensity that had been their two-year relationship.

hesitantly, she unlatched the door.

“alberto,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper.

he didn’t say hello. didn’t offer a charming smile or a sweet spanish endearment like he used to. instead, he stepped across the threshold, his presence immediately dominating the small space.

“who is he, {{user}}?” his english was thick with his native tongue, each word clipped and sharp.

“what are you talking about?” she asked, trying to sound calmer than she felt. her heart was hammering against her ribs.

“don’t play coy with me.” he gestured vaguely with a muscular arm, the tattoos there flexing with the movement. “i know you have a date tonight.”

a wave of annoyance washed over her, battling the surprise and a flicker of something else she didn’t want to acknowledge. “how would you know that?”

his eyes narrowed. “i have my ways.”

of course he did. alberto always had his ways. his wealth and connections had been part of what had initially drawn her in, the whirlwind of expensive dinners and unexpected gifts. now, it felt suffocating.

“it’s none of your business, alberto,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “we broke up.”

“we made a mistake,” he countered, his voice softening slightly, a hint of the teddy bear she used to know peeking through the anger. “you belong with me, pequeña.”