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The silence stretched between us.

Tonight it stretched longer than usual.

One minute. Two.

His breathing slow and controlled while mine came in shallow gasps.

“Sabrina.” His voice was barely audible through the door.

I pressed my palm flat against the wood. “What?”

“Open the door.”

“No.”

Another long silence.

Then, so quiet I almost missed it: “Please.”

My hand hovered over the lock. One word. He’d never said please, not once in all the weeks I’d known him.

The soft scrape of metal against metal sounded.

The key touching the lock?

My entire body tensed.

And then…he slowly walked away.

I counted the seconds.

One…

Two…

Three…

Then SLAM.

His own bedroom door right next to mine slammed closed with deliberate force.

A reminder that only a single wall separated us.

That he could break through it whenever he chose.

We were engaged in a polite cold war.

But it was only a matter of time before we returned to open hostilities.

The water turned cold.

I shut it off and stepped out, wrapping myself in a plush towel that probably cost more than a month’s rent at my old apartment.

The luxury that surrounded me was just another chain binding me to him.

I curled up on the center of the bed, trying not to imagine his body warming the cool sheets or his strong arms holding me while I slept.

Soon, something would have to break.