The ticking of the kitchen clock was deafening, each second dragging longer than the last as Vincent stared at his hands. They were trembling. Not from fear, not from nerves-he was beyond that now. No, they trembled from the sheer weight of everything he had lost, of the emptiness that had swallowed him whole.
He couldn't remember the last time he felt alive.
It hadn't always been like this. There was a time when he had hope, when his life had meant something. When he had dreams. He had been so young back then-just a kid starting college, eager to make something of himself, to become someone important. He had friends who loved him, professors who saw potential in him. He was going places.
Then he met Rody.
Vincent wasn't even sure how it had happened. One minute, Rody was just this older guy who seemed to have it all together. He had confidence, charm, a steady job. He was everything Vincent wasn't, everything Vincent thought he needed. And when Rody smiled at him, when he showed him that attention, Vincent had been helpless. He fell, hard and fast, without even realizing it.
Looking back, it felt like falling into a trap.
Rody had swept him up, told him he didn't need college, didn't need his friends, didn't need anyone else but him. And like a fool, Vincent had believed him. He moved in with Rody, cut off his friends, dropped out of school. Every time Rody told him to do something, he did it, convinced that this was love, that this was how relationships were supposed to work.
But love wasn't supposed to feel like a prison.
Rody had stripped everything away from him. And by the time Vincent realized what had happened, it was too late. He was trapped, dependent on Rody for everything. His life, his future, even his identity-it all belonged to Rody now.
And now, after everything, Rody was cheating on him.
Vincent gritted his teeth, his hands balling into fists on the table. He had found out by accident-just a few texts he had seen on Rody's phone. Little things at first, nothing too obvious. But then there had been more. Late-night calls, strange absences, the smell of another person on Rody's clothes when he came home. And the name-**Manon.**
Vincent had known something was wrong. Rody's friends had always looked at him strangely, like they knew something he didn't. He should've seen it coming, should've done something. But he hadn't. He had let it happen. Just like he had let everything else in his life fall apart.
He was pathetic.
Vincent wiped a hand over his face, trying to push back the burning anger, the frustration that gnawed at him day and night. He had given up everything for Rody, and for what? To be discarded like this? To be cheated on by the man who had promised to love him?
The thought made him sick.
For days, Vincent had stewed in his own misery, letting the knowledge of Rody's betrayal eat away at him. He had tried to confront him once, but Rody had brushed it off, smiled that same smile that used to make Vincent's heart race but now made his skin crawl.
And that was when he knew. He knew he had to do something. He couldn't live like this anymore-couldn't stand the thought of waking up every day in this house, knowing Rody was out there with her.
