The food had gone cold.
She stared at the dishes on the table, her hands resting quietly on her lap.
It was his favorite.
Or at least… it used to be.
The clock on the wall ticked softly, each second stretching longer than the last.
9:47 PM.
He's late again.
The sound of keys turning in the lock finally broke the silence.
Her head lifted slightly.
The door opened, and he stepped in.
No greeting.
No glance.
Just the faint smell of alcohol and the dull weight of exhaustion clinging to him.
"You're back," she said softly.
It wasn't a question.
It never was anymore.
"Mm."
That was all he gave.
Her fingers tightened slightly against her dress.
"Dinner is ready. I kept it warm."
"I already ate."
The words came quickly. Flat. Practiced.
Like he had said them many times before.
She paused.
"…Oh."
A small word.
Easy to say.
Easy to swallow.
He walked past her without stopping, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it carelessly onto the couch.
The same couch they used to sit on together.
Back when they talked.
Back when silence didn't feel like this.
"Next time, don't wait," he added, his tone indifferent. "It's unnecessary."
Unnecessary.
Her lips parted slightly.
"I just thought—"
"I said it's unnecessary."
Silence fell again.
He didn't look at her.
Didn't notice the way her hands slowly clenched.
Didn't notice anything at all.
"…Okay," she said quietly.
She stood up and walked to the table.
One by one, she began to clear the dishes.
Carefully.
Quietly.
As if making too much noise would break something fragile between them.
Or maybe…
It had already broken.
Behind her, his phone buzzed.
Once.
Then again.
She didn't mean to look.
But she did.
Just for a second.
A name flashed briefly across the screen.
Followed by a message:
"Did you get home?" ❤️
Her hand froze.
Just for a moment.
Then she looked away.
"Your phone," she said, her voice steady.
He picked it up immediately.
Too quickly.
"Work."
A simple answer.
Too simple.
She nodded.
Of course.
It had to be work.
What else could it be?
Outside, the night stretched endlessly.
Inside, something quiet… began to crack.
Across the street—
A figure stood in the shadows.
Unmoving.
Watching the light from her apartment window.
Watching her silhouette move slowly behind the curtains.
His gaze lingered.
Not curious.
Not surprised.
Just… certain.
"…You're still enduring," he murmured softly.
And then—
As if satisfied—
He turned and disappeared into the night.