Dinner approached. The table was set. Food prepared. Everything ready. Everything strategic.

Emma stood outside Liam's door. Locked. Isolation. Punishment.

She knocked softly. A mother’s knock.

"Liam?" Her voice was low, careful. "Baby, it's me."

Silence. Heavy. Angry. Rejecting.

"Liam, please. Talk to me."

"Go away." His voice came muffled and hurt. "Go back to your husband. Your monster. Your choice."

Each word stabbed deep.

"I'm sorry," ...