The apartment door slammed shut with a resounding bang, echoing through the hallway long after Kate had disappeared inside. Deimon, his vision blurred by alcohol and anger, stumbled after her. Reaching their room, he pushed the door open with a groan, the familiar space suddenly feeling suffocating.
"Kate," he began, his voice thick with desperation, "I'm sorry."
Kate spun around, her face etched with anger and hurt. Her eyes, usually warm, were red-rimmed and glistening with unshed tears.
"Deimon," she said, her voice shaking, "What was that out there?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.
"Don't," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor. "Your behavior was possessive and controlling. And frankly, Deimon, it scared me."
The word "scared" hung in the air, heavy with
