CONFLICT
He doesn’t wait long. That’s the thing about men like my ex — they don’t announce themselves twice. They create overlap. They engineer coincidence. I’m crossing the quad when I see Eric first. He’s standing near the steps, phone at his ear, posture tight. Focused. The version of him people trust. When he spots me, his attention snaps fully in my direction. He ends the call. “Janyia—” My ex steps into view from behind me. Perfect timing. Eric’s eyes flick to him automatically. A quick assessment. Older habit. Power recognizing intrusion. “Is everything okay?” Eric asks, voice calm, neutral, dangerous in how controlled it is. Marcus smiles like he’s been invited. “Depends who you ask.” I don’t move between them. I don’t introduce anyone. I let the silence do the work. Eric looks
- Writer
