Alexander didn’t raise his voice.
That was how I knew this wasn’t an argument.
He stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him with a quiet, deliberate click. No slam. No drama. Just the sound of choice.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“We’ve been talking for thirty days,” I replied. “You just haven’t been listening.”
His gaze flicked briefly to my phone, still in my hand. He didn’t ask for it. He didn’t reach for it.
That restraint was new.
“I know you’re planning to leave,” he said. “I also know you’re not doing it alone.”
I leaned back against the window, feeling the cold glass through the thin fabric of my clothes. The city lights blurred behind me, fractured by reflections.
“And?” I asked.
“And I can’t allow it.”
There it was.
Not I won’t survive it.
Not please
