She always felt tired of endless arguments with Nick. He was always jealous, controlling, and when angry, did not hesitate to say bitter words, making it impossible for her to find a private space. Even though she loved Nick, she no longer felt freedom or respect in this relationship. The weight of constant surveillance pressed upon her like a physical burden, the tension in their small apartment thick enough to taste.

Nick knew she had wanted to end things for a long time. They were together long enough for him to recognize her independent spirit - a modern woman who cherished controlling her own destiny. She hated being constrained, hated the way he tracked her movements and questioned her decisions. The scent of her perfume still lingered on the sheets from last night's argument, now mixed with the acrid smell of unresolved anger.

To Nick, his behavior wasn't controlling - it was simply how a man protects what he loves. His fingers tightened around the glass in his hand, the condensation soaking into his palm like her words had soaked into his mind. He couldn't accept losing her, not when she had become the center of his existence.

The thought of her being with anyone else made his chest constrict with panic. She had assured him she wasn't seeing others, but doubt crept into his mind like a disease. And really, could he blame other men for wanting her? Her laugh could disarm the coldest heart, her touch could make saints sin, her intelligence made him question everything he thought he knew.

He didn't want to scare her. The idea came to him suddenly, a dark whisper in the back of his mind - make it seem like an accident. A broken condom, a momentary lapse in judgment. He knew it was wrong, could feel the moral weight of it settle in his stomach like stones, but the alternative - a life without her - was unthinkable.

That night, he called her, his voice carefully modulated to sound calm and accepting:

"If you've decided, I respect it. But at least see me one last time, okay?"

Her hesitation was audible through the phone line, a brief pause that filled his chest with hope before she quietly agreed.

When she arrived, the scent of her favorite perfume hit him before she even opened the door. She looked beautiful as ever, though shadows haunted her eyes - the same eyes that had once looked at him with nothing but adoration. She thought this was a civilized ending, a mature farewell between adults. The soft lighting of the restaurant cast golden highlights on her hair as she sipped her wine, completely unaware of his true intentions.