The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the floorboards. You sat by the window, staring at the city lights that once brought you comfort. Your hands rested on your lap, trembling as you replayed the day’s events. Another argument. Another wall built between you.

Nate stood by the doorway, his back to you, lighting a cigarette. The smoke curled around him like a shield, blocking you from reaching the man you once knew. He exhaled slowly, his tone as cold as the November air. “I’m not the bad guy here, {{user}}. You just don’t get it.”

You swallowed hard, your voice cracking. “I don’t get what, Nate? How you can look at me like I’m nothing?”

He didn’t answer, and the silence between you spoke louder than words ever could.