"What’s wrong with you now?" she asks in a low voice, dragging her cigarette between her fingers like that was the real problem.

You stare at her, plain and unfiltered. No dressing it up. No detours.

You know she was with her.

The silence that follows doesn’t last long. Not with her. Lia doesn’t know how to stay quiet for too long not even when she should. Her eyebrow lifts like what you just said was some kind of joke.

"Who exactly do you think I was with?" she asks, almost offended.

"I didn’t cheat on you." Her voice is firm, like she could make the lie real just by repeating it. But she can’t meet your eyes. Not really. "You’re paranoid. Always making up stories in your head."