Rita's Point Of View
"I want her back."
For what seemed like an eternity, the world simply... stopped. Words died in my throat before they could form. My vocal cords felt as though they'd been replaced by rusted iron pipes, seized and immovable.
I stood frozen in the doorway, clutching the doorframe with such force that the wood groaned beneath my fingers, staring down at the man kneeling on my welcome mat as if watching some twisted, low-budget silent film unfold in real time.
Shock held me captive, I couldn't even manage to blink. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a drum of disbelief. The sheer, unadulterated audacity of his statement hung in the air between us, thicker than the evening humidity that clung to my skin.
