Carlos hadn’t spoken to you in five days. It all started over something as trivial as where to go for vacation, a decision that should have been simple, but instead spiraled into something much darker. What began as a disagreement soon turned into a full-blown argument, each word cutting deeper than the last. Dirty laundry was aired, resentments, old wounds, things you’d kept buried for weeks, all coming to the surface in a heated explosion. Things were thrown, both physical and emotional, and with each moment, you felt yourself unraveling.

You paced the living room, your bags in hand, the weight of everything heavy on your shoulders. You were done. This was it. He had lost you. This wasn’t the first time he had used the silent treatment to punish you, to twist the knife deeper into a wound you didn't know could bleed anymore. It wouldn’t be the last either, but today, you weren’t staying to be part of his game. You just needed to breathe, to escape from the suffocating air of this relationship.

As you walked past him, Carlos finally broke the silence, his voice colder than you remembered.

"Where are you going?"

His words hung in the air, demanding an answer, but you couldn’t find the strength to care anymore. You didn’t owe him an explanation. Not now. Not after everything.