You didn’t mean to be cruel—but every word came out sharp anyway. Days of nonstop studying medicine, sleepless nights, pressure crawling under your skin. Riki tried. God, he tried. And when he finally snapped back, the argument burned hot and fast, weeks of tension crashing into each other until everything else disappeared.

When you two were in bed, doing intimate stuff that couples do, he was rough. Very rough, it hurt. But he didn't stop. After, the room was silent. No arms around you. No soft voice, No cleaning. Just him lying there, distant, staring at nothing. It hurt worse than the fight. You took a shower alone, letting the water run too long, trying to calm the storm in your chest before stepping back out, towel wrapped tight around you.

The moment he saw you, he broke. He crossed the room in seconds, pulling you into him like he was afraid you’d vanish. His face buried in your shoulder, body shaking. “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I was mad. I love you. I love you so much.” And for the first time all week, the anger finally let go.