Victor became quiet.
Not calm.
Quiet.
The kind of silence that made Maya uncomfortable.
“You really think you can just make decisions without considering me?”
Maya took a breath.
“I am considering you.”
“No.”
Victor shook his head.
“You’re choosing yourself.”
She looked at him.
“Yes.”
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Maya picked up her bag.
“I think I should go.”
That was when Victor moved.
Not violently at first.
Just enough to block the doorway.
“Wait.”
“Move, Victor.”
“Let’s finish this conversation.”
“I don’t want to.”
His expression changed.
“You don’t get to walk away every time things get difficult.”
Maya looked at him.
“This isn't a conversation if I can't leave.”
She reached for the door.
Victor grabbed her wrist.
Not hard enough to leave a mark.
But enough.
Enough to make her freeze.
“Let go.”
Victor stared at her.
“You’re overreacting.”
Those words scared her more than the action.
Because he didn't see what was happening.
He believed he was right.
He believed his anger was justified.
Maya pulled away.
“I'm serious.”
Victor stepped back.
For a moment, she thought he understood.
She grabbed her bag again.
Then he moved between her and the door.
“You’re not leaving yet.”
The words were simple.
But they changed everything.
Maya looked around.
The apartment suddenly felt smaller.