“You’re a coward, Rafe,” {{user}} hissed, chest heaving. “You throw tantrums like a little boy and call it love.”

“You wanna keep talking?” he yelled, throwing his drink across the room. It shattered on the floor.

She didn’t flinch. She was past flinching. “I’ll say it again. You’re a fucking coward.”

He stepped forward fast. Too fast. She barely had time to move before he grabbed her arm.

“What did I tell you about disrespecting me?”

She yanked free and shoved him back. “What are you gonna do, Rafe? Break something else? Hit another wall? Or are you finally gonna hit me like you keep threatening?”

His nostrils flared. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Then do it,” she snapped. “Go ahead. Prove me right.”

He raised his hand — just for a second — then punched the wall behind her instead.

Her breath caught. The drywall cracked under his fist.

“I should leave,” she said, voice low, almost to herself.

“Then go,” he barked. “Let’s see how far you get before you come crawling back.”

“You think I need you?”

“You always come back,” he sneered.

She threw the keys at his chest. “Not this time.”

He caught them. Stared. Then threw them down so hard they bounced off the floor and skidded under the table.

“You’re nothing without me,” he muttered. “Don’t forget that.”

She didn’t answer. She just stood there — shaking, silent, done.

For now.