The unease didn’t arrive all at once.
It crept in quietly, like a shift in the air that only your skin notices before your mind does. After Asher’s phone lit up with that name, after his jaw tightened and his voice lowered, the apartment no longer felt as safe as it had an hour ago. Nothing had changed visually. The lights were the same. The walls stood where they always had. But the comfort had thinned, stretched too tight.
Asher didn’t say much after that.
He walked me to the bedroom himself, reminding me to lock the door even though we both knew his security system made that unnecessary. He brushed his knuckles against my cheek in a way meant to soothe, not linger.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said. “Don’t open the door for anyone. Not even if they say they’re mine.”
I smiled, trying to
