I was still shoving at his chest, hands trembling from anger, from fear, from exhaustion—hell, I didn't even know anymore. He barely moved under my touch, but I kept pushing, as if sheer desperation could make him disappear.
His gaze bore into me, unreadable, patient in a way that set my teeth on edge.
"Enough."
One word.
Cold. Detached.
It should've been a warning, but I wasn't in the mood to listen.
"Get out." My voice cracked, but I forced myself to glare at him through my tears, chin tilting up defiantly.
His jaw tightened. He didn't budge.
I felt like a cornered animal, chest heaving, throat raw.
The silence stretched between us like a blade.
Fine. If he wouldn't leave, I would.
I spun on my heel, ready to walk away, to slam the door in his face and pretend none of this was happening—
But before I could take a single step, his fingers curled around my wrist.
Not hard.
Not painful.
But enough.
Enough to stop me.
