The next morning, Serayah woke up in her own bed, the soft morning light filtering through the blinds. Marcus had already left for work, and the apartment was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside her mind.
She stared at the ceiling, replaying the conversation she had with A'ja the night before. A'ja's offer echoed in her mind: "You can stay here if you need to." It was tempting. More tempting than anything she had ever considered, but it also terrified her. Leaving Marcus meant stepping into the unknown, and the thought of that uncertainty paralyzed her.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was a text from A'ja.
"Just checking in. How are you feeling today?"
Serayah hesitated before responding, her fingers hovering over the screen. She wanted to pour her heart out, to tell A'ja how torn she felt, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she typed back a simple message.
"I'm okay. Thanks for last night."
A few moments passed before A'ja replied.
"Of course. Anytime. Just know I'm here if you need me."
The comfort in those words wrapped around Serayah like a blanket. She wished she could crawl into the safety of A'ja's home and never look back, but she knew it wasn't that easy. Not yet.
The day passed in a blur, Serayah going through the motions at work while her mind was miles away. Her coworkers noticed her distraction, but no one said anything. The nightclub world was a place of survival, where everyone carried their own baggage without asking questions.
When her shift finally ended, Serayah found herself dreading the thought of going home. Marcus had been increasingly volatile over the last few weeks, his temper flaring at the smallest things. She never knew what to expect when she walked through the door.
She lingered in the locker room after changing out of her costume, scrolling through her phone and avoiding the inevitable. Her thumb hovered over A'ja's name, tempted to call her, to take her up on the offer to stay at her place. But fear held her back.
What if Marcus found out? What if he made things worse?
Before she could think too much about it, her phone buzzed again. This time, it was Marcus.
"Where are you? You're late."
The anxiety that had been simmering all day flared to life in her chest. She quickly typed out a response, her heart pounding.
"Sorry, on my way home now."
She grabbed her things and left the club, the night air cool against her skin as she walked to her car. The drive home felt longer than usual, her thoughts racing. She knew the moment she walked through that door, everything would go back to the way it was—the fear, the tension, the control. And she wasn't sure how much longer she could take it.
When Serayah stepped inside the apartment, the first thing she noticed was Marcus sitting on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV. He barely acknowledged her when she walked in, but she could feel the tension radiating off of him.
"Why were you late?" he asked, his voice flat but dangerous.
"Work ran over," Serayah answered quickly, hoping to avoid a confrontation.
Marcus glanced at her, his eyes narrowing. "You better not be lying to me."
"I'm not," she said, her voice shaking slightly.
He didn't respond, just turned his attention back to the TV, but the unspoken threat hung in the air. Serayah moved quietly through the apartment, her body tense, trying to stay out of his way. She could feel his eyes on her every now and then, like he was waiting for an excuse to snap.
