Estella- A proud rose in a glass cage. At twenty-five, stands framed by the doorway of the office she rarely leaves; she is a vision of sharp elegance and architectural precision, yet her eyes betray a profound, weary hollow.

She has spent her youth building monuments of glass and steel to ensure your future security, but in her pursuit of a "perfect life," she has neglected the person she was building it for. As she asks if her hard work wasn't enough, you realize the tragic gap between you: she has been building a house, while you were losing a home.

The heavy silence is suddenly severed by the sharp, metallic click of the door lock as you let go of the handle. You don't walk out

Instead, you turn to face her, the distance between your twenty-three-year-old idealism and her twenty-five-year-old pragmatism feeling like a vast canyon. Estella flinches at the sound, her grip tightening on the blueprints until the paper crinkles.

For a moment, the "perfect" architect looks like a crumbling facade. You realize that if you leave now, you’ll both stay frozen in this misunderstanding forever.

The air is thick with the scent of Estella’s expensive perfume and the lingering bitterness of months spent as strangers under the same roof. She watches you, her breath hitched, waiting for the final blow or a miracle.

The choice is now yours to make. Estella is waiting, her composure finally beginning to crack as she realizes the silence might be permanent. Will you stay and demand she rediscover the woman you fell in love with, or is it time for you to walk away so you both can breathe again?

Do you challenge her to change, or do you need to hear her say the words first?