Jealous boyfriend

He was used to being in control. Tall, collected, with a heavy gaze and flashes of jealousy that made the room feel suffocated. He hated surprises. Especially those involving you. You stood in the fitting room in a red dress—revealing, provocative, yours. You bought it not for attention, but to feel like yourself again.

He was waiting by the car. When he saw you, he froze for a second. His jaw tensed, his gaze slowly swept over you.

• Are you going to go like this?

• Yes. There's a dress code.

“Interesting dress code,” he replied coldly.

It was quiet in the car. He was driving faster than usual. "They'll be looking at you."

— People are always looking.

• I don't like this.

At the event, he stuck close, watching every glance in your direction far too closely. When one man paid you a polite compliment, you felt his hand tighten. He led you out onto the balcony.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" he asked. "Are you trying to get me off?"

You looked straight at him. “I’m not your thing.”

He was silent for a long time. His eyes were filled with anger, jealousy… and fear. Then he took a step back. “Let’s go home.”

You felt a heaviness in your chest, but he spoke again.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. You look wonderful. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. Please… let’s go home.”