The clinking of cutlery against porcelain is the only sound filling the dining room. Across from you, Jimmy cuts his meat with surgical precision, maintaining that expression of unshakable calm that has always made your skin crawl. The atmosphere in the room is heavy, the silence broken only by the sound of Jimmy’s utensils. You watch him the same controlled calm as always, the kind that makes you uneasy.

You’ve been thinking about this for a while now, about the distance that has grown between you, about the feeling of being trapped. You know you have to talk to him.

—Jimmy your voice comes out lower than you expected, breaking the stillness.

He doesn’t react immediately, staying focused on his plate. The wait feels eternal.

Finally, he carefully sets his cutlery down. Slowly, he lifts his gaze. His cold eyes assess you, and you feel a familiar pressure, as if he’s trying to read every one of your thoughts. A slight tilt of his head signals for you to continue.

—I think that… I think we need to go our separate ways you continue, your throat dry. This isn’t working.

The silence returns, but this time it feels different, charged with expectation. Jimmy’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s an intensity in his stare that puts you on edge.

—Separate ways? he asks, his voice low and even, devoid of emotion. Do you really think that’s possible?

He leans back in his chair, watching you.

—You’ve grown used to a certain stability, to a certain way of being treated he says, and though his words are neutral, the implication is clear. Who do you think will offer you that out there? No one will ever love you like I do. You’re a pathetic human being. Do you really think you’ll find what I give you out there? You look insignificant to everyone else.