It takes two to tango.

As the door closed behind Nightshade, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The tension in my shoulders slowly unwound, though the heaviness in my chest remained. His presence was like a cold, suffocating fog that seeped into every corner of the room, and even after he was gone, the chill lingered. I walked over to the window, pulling back the heavy curtain to peer out into the night. The sky was pitch black, with no stars to offer comfort, just the same oppressive darkness I had grown accustomed to.

I pressed my forehead against the cool glass, my breath fogging the glass as my thoughts spiraled. It was always the same when Nightshade left. Relief mingled with dread, the uneasy calm before the storm. I was his lover, his confidante, but only because I had to be. The mask I wore in his presence felt like a second skin, a permanent skin I could never fully shed. I was trapped in this role, suffocated by the lies I told myself and him. There was no escape, not without payi