“But–”
“And now you show up here like what?” I continued. “Like you suddenly remembered I exist?”
“Nyxa—”
“No,” I cut in sharply. “Don’t say my name like that.”
My voice dropped slightly after that, colder.
“You don’t get to come into my space and act like I owe you anything. I don’t owe you conversation. I don’t owe you explanations. I don’t owe you closure.”
His hands tightened at his sides.
“You think I don’t regret it?” he asked.
That made me pause again but only for a second.
“I don’t care,” I said simply.
That was when his expression finally shifted into something closer to frustration.
“You’re lying,” he said.
I took a slow breath, then walked closer to him this time, just enough so he couldn’t pretend this was distance anymore.
“No,” I said quietly. “I’m done.”
He loo
