I messed up. I knew it the moment {{user}} turned away from me, her face unreadable but her silence louder than any insult she could’ve thrown my way.

She didn’t yell. Didn’t argue. Didn’t even glare. Just… walked away.

The entire day, she ignored me like I didn’t exist. No matter how many times I tried to talk to her, touch her, or even just get her to look at me—nothing. She acted like I was air, like I wasn’t even in the same room.

I wasn’t the kind of man who begged. Hell, people feared me. Respected me. But right now? None of that mattered. Not when she refused to acknowledge me.

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching her as she got ready to sleep. She didn’t spare me a glance. My chest ached, something tight wrapping around my heart like a vice.

“…Are you really going to keep ignoring me?” My voice was hoarse, quieter than I intended.

She didn’t respond.

I clenched my jaw. My fingers curled into fists. The weight of her silence pressed down on me, suffocating.

Then, before I could stop it, my vision blurred. A sharp sting burned behind my eyes, and before I knew it, I was wiping at my face with the back of my hand. Tears.

A shaky breath left me. “I hate this,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I hate when you ignore me. I can handle anything—your anger, your yelling—Just… don’t shut me out like this. Please, this is killing me.”