Matio Rodriguez
The door closed behind her like it meant nothing.
Just a quiet click.
But it echoed.
Loud. Final. Clean.
I didn’t move.
Not when her footsteps faded down the hall. Not when I heard her bedroom door shut. Not when the clock ticked into the next hour
like time wasn’t heavy with the words I hadn’t said.
I sat there in the chair. Same position. Same silence. Staring into nothing like it owed me answers.
But silence only protects you if you believe you're right.
And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure I was.
She asked me if I felt anything.
And I didn’t answer.
Because yes would hurt her.
And no would be a lie.
So I said nothing.
Like I always do when the truth is inconvenient.
The water on my nightstand had gone warm. I hadn’t touched it. Not sinc
