You were trapped in your own home, the barrel of a gun passed on your ribcage.

A relationship is supposed to consist of trust, a healthy sense of trust, and compassion. Nate had none of those. Ten times out nine you knew he was lying. About where he was and who he was talking to. Nine times out of ten you knew he was trying to change.

But you were trying to waste your time. The message you left him, proposing a break up had led you here.

Who was supposed to be your ex-boyfriend was now sat in front of you, face sweating and stoic. “You can’t just ‘break up’ with me over text. Say it to my face.” He cocks the pistol back, pressing it back against you.

“Speak up.”