So she did know silence could be cruel. Yet she used it on me every single time, letting me suffer, lose sleep, and twist myself into knots until she finally offered some fragile reconciliation.
“I was at a company event,” I said quietly. “I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. My schedule was full, and I didn’t have time to reply. And you, of all people, should understand that. You used to be too busy to respond to me all the time.”
I didn't bother saying more.
I walked directly to the bathroom to wash up. When I returned, the living room lights had been dimmed to a warm glow. The TV was on, and a bottle of red wine sat waiting on the coffee table.
“You’ve been talking about wanting to watch this movie forever. I’ll watch it with you tonight.”
A yawn slipped out of me, my eyes already half closed.
“No need. I already watched it by myself on my birthday night.”
I didn't bother to look at her expression as it darkened. Instead, I walked straight into the bedroom and locked the door.
Later that night, still half-asleep, I faintly heard a door slam outside, loud enough to echo through the apartment. I drifted back to sleep without checking.
The next morning, Arianne was gone.