(Virginia's POV)
The door closes behind him with a soft click that sounds like a gunshot in the silence. I stand frozen in the middle of my room, staring at the space where he just stood.
"It doesn't matter whether I like it or not."
The words echo in my head, each repetition cutting deeper than the last. I spent days planning this room. Choosing every fabric, every piece of furniture. I wanted it to be perfect for when he saw it. I wanted him to see how far I've come, how worthy I am now.
But he looked at it all like it was nothing. Like I was nothing.
My legs give out, and I sink onto the silk comforter, my hands shaking. The designer pillows that cost more than most people's monthly rent feel cold against my back. Everything in this room is cold. Beautiful and expensive and meaning
