Life Isn't Fair (Bad Ending)

For a second, Laura thought she might lean forward. Might close the distance and let something happen she couldn’t take back.

Instead, she slid away.

“No.”

The word sounded small in the charged space between them.

Justin didn’t move. His expression hardened.

“I mean it,” she added, steadier now. “This is a mistake.”

A flicker crossed his face. Not yet anger. Something more dangerous. Determination.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself as if that could reinforce her reason. “I just got out of something toxic. I'm not rushing into a new relationship because it feels intense for five minutes.”

Silence stretched.

Justin exhaled slowly, like he was trying to keep something down.

“I’m not him,” he said.

She paused, wondering how he knew who he was.

“That’s not the point.”

She stood up from the floor. The path to the door was clear. She realized it was only a few steps out into the hallway. That seemed to matter somehow.

She reached out and pointed toward the exit.

“You should go.”

This time, the shift was unmistakable. His posture changed. Shoulders squared. Jaw set.

“You don’t see it.”

Laura blinked. “What?”

“I’m not leaving like this.” His voice was calm, but there was a hardness underneath it now. “You don’t get to just shut this off.”

A cold prickle ran up her spine.

“Justin, stop.”

“You felt it too,” he cut in. “Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

“I did,” she snapped, frustration breaking through. “And that’s exactly why this is a bad idea.”

That should have been the end of it.

In a fair world, it would have been.

But life isn't fair.

“You can’t do this,” he said menacingly.

“I can. And I have to.”

He snorted and looked up at the ceiling. He slowly shook his head and growled softly, “No, it's not that simple.”

For a moment, she thought he might finally step away. That something had clicked back into place.

Instead, he moved forward.

Not fast, but with a frightening determination.

Laura’s instincts finally caught up.

She ran to the door, reached for the handle, but he was already there. His hand closed around her wrist. She couldn’t pull free.

“Listen,” he hissed, too close now.

“Let go.” Her voice sharpened. “Now.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“So are you,” she shot back, struggling against his grip. “This is exactly why I said no.”

That did it.

His gaze hardened completely, like a door shutting.

“You don’t know what you want,” he said. “What is good for you.”

“I know I don’t want this.”

For a moment, they just stood there. Time seemed to stand still.

Then everything tipped.