#ocisaac

Your eyes are slightly unfocused as you stare at the ceiling, lost in thought. Your fingers idly play with your husband’s hair, running through the softness of each strand.

Earlier you were observing his features, but you stopped when you realized it was just getting in the way of your concentration. Today is a special day, and you need to think about every detail so everything goes according to plan.

Your daydreaming is interrupted when you feel his head shift beneath your touch. A soft murmur escapes his lips, revealing the comfort he finds in your affection.

“What are you thinking about? You’re not usually this distracted in the morning.”

You jerk back, quickly removing your hand from his hair. "When did you wake up?! Sorry, I didn’t realize it was so late... I’ll make breakfast right away.”

He laughs at your nervousness and gently pulls you back. “I feel guilty for you always waking up early to take care of me. Let me help you this time.”

“But you work so hard every day. It’s the least I can do..."

“So what?” He yawns, rubbing an eye with the back of his hand. “You know what day it is. Sadly I have to go to work, but I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can.”

You stretch, trying to shake off your sleepiness. "Alright, you can cook with me, but let me handle most of the work.” You get up, already thinking of which tasks to delegate to him.

Isaac gets up with you, following behind. “I’m at your service, my love.”

And he truly was.

Even though you insisted on giving him the easiest tasks, he refused and insisted on doing the hardest ones with you. He seemed to have a natural talent for it, even more than you. You believe that if he followed the recipe by himself, he could do better than you.

“I’m having trouble cutting this strawberry into a heart shape. Can you help me?”

“Let me see what you’ve done.” You approach and examine the strawberry. The shape looks more like a square than a heart. “You’re struggling again? Are you sure you don’t want me to do it for you?”

“No way! Am I bothering you that much?”

“No, of course not!”

The muscles in his face seem to relax at your words, but still… You’re afraid he really thinks he’s bothering you.

He opens the cutlery drawer and takes out another knife for you. “Please, sweetheart? Sorry for giving you so much trouble.”

You accept and grab another cutting board, placing it next to his. “No... I’d teach you a thousand times if you needed me to. Here, I’ll show you again…”

You begin giving him step-by-step instructions, showing him exactly how each motion should go. You get the feeling he isn’t really focused on the task, but you keep going anyway.

And you were right. His eyes were completely focused on you: the way your fingers moved, the way your lips suddenly pressed together as you thought of a better way to explain something, the synchronized movement of your eyes. Everything about you was beautiful to him.

“Got it? Want me to stay close while you do the rest?” you ask as you tilt the board slightly, letting the strawberries slide into the bowl. With the knife, you gently push the ones stuck to the surface, helping them fall in. You show him the bowl and wait for his confirmation.

“I got it.” He places his hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You explain things so well.”

You feel your heart pick up slightly, but try not to show it. “I’ll stay close in case you need help.”

You both continue cooking. While he slices the fruit, you watch him out of the corner of your eye. This time, his cuts are precise, and for a moment you wonder if you misjudged earlier. Maybe he really was paying attention.

Either way, you don’t care.

The sound of silverware fills the room, blending with the chatter between you two as you eat breakfast.

“I’ll be home later than usual today. I need to stop by the pharmacy.”

“But you already get home late most days...” Your voice is low, concern evident in your tone. “Wouldn’t it be better if I went this morning? I don’t like the idea of you walking around at night, Isaac.”

Your husband shakes his head in disapproval. “You know I don’t like it when you go out alone. What if something happens to you? There’ve been a lot of kidnapping cases lately. Haven’t you been watching the news?”

You haven’t, but it’s best not to let him know that.

“Still, I think it’s better if…” You begin to argue but stop mid-sentence. You don’t want to start a fight. “Okay, but why? Are you feeling unwell?”

“No, I’m fine. I just need to buy your new medication. The doctor changed the prescription, remember?”

You pause, trying to recall the appointment, but can’t clearly remember anything. “He did? I don’t remember that.”

“You’re so forgetful.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin and sets the silverware down on his empty plate. “What would you do without me?”

Even though he’s joking, he’s right. You used to have a good memory, how could you forget things so easily now?

“Don’t make that face, you know I love taking care of you.” He kisses your cheek before getting up to clear the dishes.

“Wait!” You run to him and grab his wrist, pulling him away. “Leave it, I’ll wash them! I don’t want you to get tired.”

He hesitates for a moment, then slowly places the dishes back in the sink. You can tell he still wanted to insist. “Alright, but call me if you need help.”

You nod silently and turn on the faucet. The cold water runs over your fingers as you rinse the silverware. He walks away quietly, and when you glance over your shoulder, he’s brushing his teeth in the bathroom.

As you wash the dishes, your mind returns to the earlier conversation. You really don’t remember the medication being changed. You never used to have trouble remembering things, but now it feels like small gaps are starting to appear in your memory.

It's probably the effect of the medication, but... It shouldn't be that bad, should it?

Well, what matters is that you need them. If the side effect is that bad, it must mean it's made from something resistant. There's no need to think too deeply about it.

Once you finish, you grab his briefcase and wait in the living room, looking out the window.

It’s cold outside, colder than usual. Maybe it’s a good idea to add another coat, just in case.

You open the briefcase and carefully tuck the folded coat in between the other items.

“What are you doing? I’m already dressed warm enough,” he says, entering the room while adjusting the sleeve of his jacket.

“It’s really cold out. The forecast says it might snow soon.” You hand him the briefcase.

He takes it and nods in thanks. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’m heading out…”

Before he can open the door, your eyes fall on a detail that’s become almost routine. “Your tie’s crooked again…” you murmur to yourself, stepping closer.

He stops where he is. His body stays still, as if he already knew you’d notice. Gently, you undo the poorly tied knot with both hands. The tip of the tie is tucked inward, so you smooth it out with your fingers. He patiently waits for you to finish.

“Am I cleared to go to work now?” he asks when you step back, assuming you’re done.

You analyze him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, you can go.”

“I’m off then. Take care, and as always, don’t open the door for anyone.” He gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

“You too. Please text me when you get there. I love you.”

“I love you too. See you later.” He closes the door behind him, and you head to the window to watch him leave.

Once his car disappears from view, you run to the bathroom, lift the toilet lid, and carefully pull out the plastic-wrapped paper hidden inside. The list is safe.

You let out a sigh of relief. The bathroom is the only room in the house without cameras, the perfect hiding place. You tuck the list into your pocket and head to the bedroom to get ready.

After bundling up, you grab the shopping basket, lock the door, and begin walking down the road toward town. The house is isolated, nestled in a quiet corner between trees and fields, but still close enough to reach the town center on foot. You used to think Isaac was the type who would live in the city, so it surprised you to find out he lived somewhere so remote.

But you kind of like it, this way, it’s just you and him.

As you walk, you avoid shallow puddles and pass low fences surrounding empty lots. Slowly, the town starts to reveal itself, first the houses, then the narrow sidewalks and subtle shop windows with few decorations.

The first store that comes into view is the wine shop. The display window is decorated with old bottles covered in a thin layer of dust and a delicately embroidered cloth hanging with charm.

Your first stop is there. The interior is small and cozy, with a subtle scent of aged wood and cork. The owner, a woman with a soft voice and constant smile, greets you as soon as you walk in.

“Good morning! Planning something special today?”

You smile politely. “I’d like a bottle of white wine.”

It’s a simple answer. Over time, you’ve learned that the fewer details you offer, the better. Even with people Isaac is fond of, caution has become a habit.

After picking the bottle, you head to a nearby delicatessen. As you enter, the place envelops you in a comforting aroma of aged cheeses and soft hints of old wood. You approach the cheese counter, eyes scanning each block carefully before choosing a creamy brie, a mild gouda, and a generous piece of blue cheese.

With your basket beginning to fill, you stop by a specialty store for imported goods. You grab dried fruits, nuts, and a jar of fig jam to go with the cheeses. As you place the jar into your basket, you pull out the list and begin checking off the items.

“Nuts, check. Cheese, check. Fruit, check...” You cross out each item you’ve grabbed. Everything you need is already here, but you still want to add more snacks.

You turn toward the produce section. As you walk, you write the new item on the list, and it’s precisely in that distracted moment that you bump into someone.

The collision makes you stumble, and you grip the basket tightly to keep from dropping it. But the person in front of you drops the fruit they were holding.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t...” The words get caught in your throat when you see the man’s face, and your own face pales. His hair is messy, dark circles under his eyes, and his expression is a mix of surprise and a kind of horror.

Your own expression must mirror the same emotion, though you hope it’s for different reasons. You compose yourself, set the basket on the ground, and quickly begin picking up the fallen fruit, your hands trembling as you place them back on the stand.

“I wasn’t paying attention, I shouldn’t have done that, I’m really sorry...” You keep apologizing until the last fruit is returned. “I’ll go now, I’m sorry again!” You don’t wait for a response and quickly walk away.

No, it can’t be him. Why would he be here now, of all places?

You grip the basket tightly in your hand and try to keep your pace steady, dodging people in your path and muttering rushed apologies when you bump into someone.

Is he here for revenge? Did he find out you're with Isaac? What if he comes after you now? You try to convince yourself it was just a mistake, a coincidence, maybe it wasn't him. But the way he looked at you... It didn't seem like that. It was like he knew exactly who you were.

You try to push the thoughts away, but they keep coming, all at once. If it really was him, what should you do? Pretend you didn’t see him? Warn your husband? Your heart sinks at the thought of telling him.

You’re just about to decide what to do when you feel a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey!” The hand grips you tightly, forcing you to stop abruptly. “You almost ran into the candy shelf. What’s going on?”

You look at the man in front of you, hesitation in your voice. “Mr. Francisco... Did you see what happened?”

He frowns, confused. “What? No, I didn’t see anything. Are you alright?”

You force a smile. “I’m fine. Could you ring up my groceries, please?” you say as you start placing the items on the counter.

“But what happened? It’s also rare to see you shopping without Isaac.” he says as he rings up your items.

You move to the other side, putting the bagged items back in the basket. “It’s kind of embarrassing… I got scared by a cockroach. Please don’t tell anyone!” Your laugh comes out awkward.

“So that’s what it was? No need to be embarrassed, my granddaughter’s terrified of cockroaches too.” He laughs sincerely, and you feel the atmosphere lighten a bit.

“Your granddaughter is 9 years old, Mr. Francisco.” This time, your smile has a hint of real humor. You hand him the money. “I’m leaving now. Thank you, and sorry for worrying you!”

You leave the store, and only when you turn the corner do you finally exhale the breath you’ve been holding. Mr. Francisco is a close friend of your husband’s and was the one who sold you your house. Even so, he’s always been a bit nosy.

Your thoughts return to what happened earlier. Now, with a calmer mind, you can think more clearly. Why did that man show up on such an important day? You know you can’t let this shake you today.

You grab your list again with a huff. You still need baguettes and arugula leaves. You better hurry, you want everything ready before he gets home.

You keep walking, but now with much more caution, throwing discreet glances behind you. Maybe your disguise isn’t as good as you thought, because everywhere you go, you end up running into people Isaac knows. It almost feels like they’re making sure you’re okay.

Well, you won’t be rude.

You lock the door behind you and lean against it, releasing a deep sigh. The entire morning has passed, and your shopping took longer than expected. Ever since leaving the store, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about what happened there.

It would be better to tell your husband, but not today. You absolutely don’t want to ruin this day for him.

The silence in the house is so heavy that you turn on the TV just to have some background noise. The channel is airing the news. You don’t feel like hearing about tragedies right now, but for some strange reason, it seems to be the only channel available.

As you tidy the living room, the anchor mentions another kidnapping case, and your eyes fix on the screen. You feel like you’ve seen this news before, why is it airing again?

You notice the date, it’s from the day before yesterday. Why is the TV repeating the same report?

Feeling distracted and uneasy, you turn it off. It’s better to talk about this with your husband later.

You start preparing the food, slicing the cheeses and carefully arranging them on each plate, making sure every piece is the same size. Then you set the utensils beside each dish. When everything is ready, you place the food in the fridge, wash your hands, and grab your phone. It’s lunchtime, Isaac is probably able to talk now.

[You]: “Did you eat? Was the food good? I don’t understand how you prefer reheated food over getting something fresh.” “If you don’t want to spend your money, you can spend mine.”

[My Addiction ❤️]: “I refuse to eat anything not made by you when I have the chance.” “How are you? I hope you’re eating too.”

[You]: “Not yet… I slept in today.” “I’m going to cook something now.”

[My Addiction ❤️]: “If I had known you planned to rest, I would’ve sent lunch from a new five-star restaurant that opened last week.” “You can’t take your meds on an empty stomach.”

You sigh. He’s always been strict about that. You used to understand his concern, but your psychiatrist says you’ve been improving since the treatment started, so you don’t think there’s a need to be so strict anymore.

[You]: “I’m making something now, I’ll be fine. By the way, I have something to tell you.”

Just as you’re about to talk about the issue with the TV, a new notification pops up.

[Unknown]: "hello"

The number is unknown to you, and Isaac usually lets you know if a coworker is going to message you.

[You]: “Who is this? Are you a service provider?”

As soon as you send the message, you leave the chat, but the reply comes almost immediately.

[Unknown]: "i can't believe omg you replied!!" "you usually block numbers you don't recognize, i thought this wouldn't work… i'm so happy... is this how you felt when i replied to you for the first time??" "i didn’t think it’d be this easy to get someone’s number, i figured out the technique you used to get other people’s numbers!" "are you proud of me? :)"

You grip the phone tightly. You feel like you know who it is, but his behavior doesn’t match his personality.

[Unknown]: "can't you talk right now? why are you taking so long to reply?"

You block the contact before they can send anything else. If it really is him, this must be a tactic to deceive you.

Still, you don’t want to deal with this right now.

[My Addiction ❤️]: “What was it you wanted to tell me?”

You tap the notification from your husband. Oh right, you were going to tell him something.

But what was it again?

You try to recall it, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t remember.

[You]: “I love you.”

[My Addiction ❤️]: “Something tells me that’s not what you were going to say, but I’ll take it.” “I love you too.” “I’m bringing you something special today. Wait for it.”

You turn off the phone and press it to your chest. Your lips ache from smiling so much. You can’t help it, he means everything to you!

Well, time to get back to preparing things.

It’s time.

Your legs swing slowly, overcome with anticipation. Your eyes don’t leave the door. Everything is ready, the candles carefully placed throughout the house, the scarf you sewed yourself, the ambiance designed with every detail just for him, the clothes chosen in hopes of pleasing him... There’s no way he won’t like it, you hope.

You try to pretend you’re not bothered by the time, but impatience grows each time you look at the clock and see the minutes haven’t moved.

He must be arriving soon.

You grab the scarf and stand from the couch, moving to the door and positioning yourself beside it. You wait in silence until you hear the familiar three knocks.

“My love, are you awake?”

You open the door just enough for one of your eyes to see him. There he is, smiling at you.

“I brought a present.” He raises an elegant package.

“How sweet of you.” You step back and open the door wider so he can come in. He enters and gently places the gift in your hands.

“Sweet? Today’s the day we met. You should’ve expected this.” He pauses, observing the room. “So that’s where that lovely smell was coming from… With the lights off, I thought you were asleep.”

“You should also know I wouldn’t let this day pass unnoticed.” You position yourself in front of him and bring your hands between the two of you, holding each end of the scarf.

“Do you trust me, Isaac?”

He tilts his head toward your hands, closing his eyes. “With all my heart.”

Your shoulders relax at those words, and you gently place the scarf over his eyes, tying it tightly behind his head. After the final knot, he takes a step back, and you grab his hand, starting to guide him through the quiet hallways of the house.

With each step, he turns his head, trying to catch the aromas in the air. First a sweet scent, then something more woody, followed by a citrusy freshness from another candle. The smells seem to awaken something in him, a mix of curiosity and anticipation.

When you reach the table, you position yourself behind him and place your hand on the scarf covering his eyes. You mentally prepare before undoing the knot.

You step back, holding your breath as he slowly opens his eyes, scanning the sliced cheeses, aligned wines, and carefully organized appetizers on the table…

Isaac approaches the table in silence. He picks up the wine bottle with one hand, removes the seal, and twists the cork until he hears the soft pop. Then he grabs a glass and pours the wine halfway. When he’s done, he gently swirls the glass by its stem, as if testing the aroma, then lifts it toward you.

"Won't you sit down? This isn't just my night, it's ours."

There’s a warmth in his voice, too sweet to be just playful. You slowly step closer, your fingers wrapping around the glass carefully.

Now that you’re so close, you can better see every detail on his face. His smile is wide, and his eyes shine with a happiness that’s impossible not to notice. He looks so happy!

Instead of bringing the glass to your lips, you set it down on the table. He frowns in confusion, but says nothing as you raise the red scarf again with a challenging gaze.

“How about we play a game?”

His face loses its softness, replaced by a firm and teasing expression. Isaac sets the wine bottle beside his glass and adjusts his tie.

“Refusing you is never an option for me.”

You nod and move to his place, pulling the chair out for him to sit. He settles in, and you push the chair back in. With the scarf in hand, you gently place it in front of his eyes.

“Ready?”

The anticipation in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed. He turns his head just enough to meet your gaze. “More than ever.”

You wrap the scarf around his eyes again and, after tying it, crouch in front of him, bringing your face close to his. “What do you see?”

“You know the answer. Nothing.”

Your hand slides back to the scarf and lifts it slightly. “And now?”

He raises his hand and squeezes yours, which rests on the fabric. “Now I see the love of my life.”

You laugh softly and lower the scarf again, adjusting it around his eyes. Once you’re sure he can’t see anything, your attention returns to the feast before you.

“Let’s see…” Your eyes land on the strong-smelling cheese placed at the corner of the table. You reach out, spear a piece with a fork, and bring it to your husband’s mouth. “Let’s start with this one.”

He takes a deep breath and tilts his head back slightly. "It smells sour... You're making it easy for me." Despite the comment, he leans forward and eats. You take the opportunity to take a piece for yourself. "After all, you already let me see the table."

You taste your own piece before answering. “I wanted you to see everything I prepared for you…” You pick up the wine glass and guide it to his fingers, helping him hold it steadily. “So? Can you tell which cheese it is?”

He slowly swirls the glass between his fingers before responding. “I think it’s… Limburger?”

And the game continued.

You offered a piece, he tasted it and tried to guess the type of cheese. Sometimes he got it right, other times he missed on purpose just to tease you and lighten the mood. You took the chance to comment on each answer with some information or curiosity about the cheese. The night went on relaxed and fun.

“In total, you got…” You remove the scarf from his eyes and point to the table, the plates arranged in two rows, the correct ones on one side and the wrong ones on the other. “Fourteen out of twenty, congratulations!”

He looks at the arrangement of the plates for a few seconds, then grabs the glass and drinks the rest of the white wine in one gulp. “Well, that’s more than half.” He puts the glass back on the table. “I’d say I’m a winner.”

“Definitely.” You fold the scarf carefully and leave it on the table. “Although this night was supposed to be a gift for you… I really enjoyed myself.” The last words come out almost in a whisper. “Did you… like it?”

You look away, nervous, while bringing your hand to your neck, trying to find the right words. He never liked it when you left without telling him, and now you don’t know what to expect.

“I really tried hard and…” Anything else disappears when you feel his touch on your cheek, you hadn’t noticed he had already come so close.

“All this was done for me…” He gestures around the room, as if genuinely admiring every detail. “How could I not like it? Everything you do for me, even the simplest things, reminds me every time why I fell in love. I can’t imagine my life without you by my side.” You pull his hand away and hug him, squeezing him tightly against you. His body stiffens in surprise at first, but soon relaxes and wraps his arms around you as well. “Isaac… Nothing makes me happier than calling you my husband.” 

Your murmurs sound loud in his ears, and each word of yours seems to move his heart as much as his words move yours.

You hold each other for a moment until he steps back just enough to look at you. The warmth of his body is still present, and you feel his breathing slightly faster. “Since I won the game, don’t I deserve a reward?” Surprise takes over your face before you push your husband away lightly, laughing. “Ah, you’re drunk! I should have suspected, you wouldn’t put down the glass while eating.” “That way you hurt my feelings, dear…” He takes your wrist and gently pulls you towards him; you make no effort to stop him. “And I think you deserve that too.”

Your breath falters as he kisses the tips of your fingers, the way he looks at you stirs something inside you you can’t explain.

“All right, but only because you deserve it…” Your lips capture his before he has time to react. At the same moment, he returns the kiss with the same intensity, as if every second away from you had built an urgency that needed to be desperately satisfied.

The world around seems to shrink until only the warmth of his touch, the shared breath, and the racing beat of your hearts remain. He rests his firm hands on your hips, drawing you closer, as if your bodies were made to fit perfectly.

Your fingers reach the nape of his neck, holding gently as the kiss deepens, adopting a slower rhythm. Suddenly, one of his hands moves away from your hip and slides back, impatiently pushing the utensils off the table to make room.

The movement breaks your concentration, and you part your lips from his. He takes the chance to catch his breath, sliding his hand back to your hip and gripping it firmly to support his weight as he lifts you, resting you on the table. Without wasting time, Isaac dives back into your lips.

He bites your lower lip, causing a shiver that runs through your whole body. You respond with a gasp, sliding your tongue to meet his. The moment they touch, a wave of intense heat invades you.

When you feel the air completely leave your lungs, your hand that was on his neck rises to his hair, pulling it back. Your husband lets out a protesting grunt but doesn’t resist your grip and allows himself to be taken. His lips curve into a smile when he sees that you’re as messy as he is.

You release his hair as your breathing returns to normal. Isaac takes advantage of the moment to lean in, bringing his face to your neck.

“You look so pretty tonight…” He rubs his lips on your skin, and your head instinctively tilts back, exposing more to him. “Sometimes I can’t believe you’re really mine.”

“And only now you decided to tell me that?” Your hand returns to his hair, but this time only to caress it softly. “I’m impressed how shy you still are with me…”

Isaac snuggles closer, burying his face in your neck as if seeking refuge there. You embrace him and pull him nearer, letting him hide in the space between your skin. Unfortunately, the moment is broken when the doorbell rings through the house, shattering the intimacy that had formed, and you both turn toward the hallway, tension suddenly filling the air.

“Someone’s at the door.”

“I wonder who it could be…” You step away and get down from the table. Your husband says nothing more, but concern is clear on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll see who it is. I’ll be right back.” You give one last squeeze to his hand before heading to the hallway, each step echoing in the silent house.

When you reach the living room, you press your lips, irritated by the interruption. It’s probably just another lost traveler who needs help finding the way to town. You hold the bunch of keys and take a deep breath, forcing a smile before reaching for the doorknob. “Good evening, how can I hel…”

The words die in your throat.

The man’s face before you is unmistakable, clear as crystal. The image you kept of him at the market, with messy hair and deep dark circles, has changed completely. Now, his hair is neat and combed, showing evident care, and his clothes, once wrinkled and sloppy, appear clean and well-fitted. He’s not wearing anything luxurious, but his appearance shows obvious care. The world seems to stop as you stare at each other. Your legs freeze on the floor, and your body feels heavy as if unable to move. Your heart races so strongly you feel every beat. The surprise on his face is different from the horror on yours. You don’t react immediately when he holds your two hands firmly between his.

“I knew it... I found you! I finally found you!” Henry’s voice overflows with euphoria as he intertwines his fingers with yours with an intimacy that makes you shiver. He leans closer, and his warm breath reaches your face, making you instinctively pull back. “When I saw you today… I thought I was dreaming. I followed you here, but I couldn’t show up like that... I was a mess…”

“…Let me go…” You murmur, but he doesn’t react. It’s as if he didn’t hear or chose to ignore you. His eyes are fixed on yours, completely oblivious to your discomfort.

“There’s so much I need to tell you. I just realized everything now, I realized that…”

“I told you to let me go!” Your scream echoes through the room. You struggle, trying to break free from his grip. For a moment, you feel him loosen, but he doesn’t let go.

He pulls his head back confused, as if he doesn’t understand your reaction. “W-What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to see me…”

You barely manage to open your mouth before being suddenly pulled backward. Henry is pushed away, and instantly a larger body positions itself in front of you in a protective stance.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Your husband’s voice explodes in the room. It’s so loud and aggressive that even though it’s not directed at you, it makes your body shrink immediately. “If you touch them again, I swear I'll rip off all your fingers one by one.””

Henry leans against the door, surprised, staring at your husband. “You... Who are you?” The coldness in his voice is so intense it seems like a different person, unlike the one who spoke to you earlier. He turns to you, and you clutch your husband’s arm. “[Name]…” He seems to hesitate before your trembling form trying to hide. “We’ll see each other later.”

And then he disappears through the door, walking away. Did he really give up that easily?

You can’t believe it. Even watching his silhouette disappear into the night’s darkness, doubt still lingers inside you. What was his intention? To kill you in the middle of the night?

That side of him scares you. The last time he was kind, it was just to deceive you, to lower your guard and stab you in the back. Does he want to get close to you and your husband just to destroy you both?

That thought terrifies you more than the first.

You feel an arm carrying you to the couch, and when you sit down, a warm hand starts caressing your hair. It brings you back to reality.

“Isaac... Are you okay?” Those are your first words to him. You admit to being surprised; he was never impulsive or reactive before. This is the first time you see him so upset. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like this kind of situation, I should have prepared better…”

“I’m the one who should apologize.” He holds your hand. “I’m sorry, I should have come with you. No man would let his partner take a risk by answering the door to a stranger.”

“Don’t worry, silly.” You reassure him, forcing a smile. “Let’s end the night, okay?” You say as you get up and lock the door; the sound of the bolt seems louder than it should. He still seems restless, as if wanting to resume the subject, but he holds back for now not to upset you more.

“All right… I’ll tidy the table then. Can you make the bed for us?”

“Sure. Anything you need, just call me.”

You would normally ask to do the heavier work, but this time you let him take over. Hopefully, it would be enough to distract his thoughts from what had happened. You knew deep down this day would come, but you didn’t expect it to arrive so soon.

“...” Your movements stop when you notice a crease on the sleeves of your clothes, probably caused by Henry’s grip.

Henry…

He ruined your night with your husband.

You close your fingers tightly around the bedsheet, feeling anger rise slowly. None of this should have happened, it was supposed to be a perfect night. Why did he have to show up today of all days? It can’t stay like this. You need to make sure he never comes between you “You seem tense.” Isaac appears at the door, placing a tray of medicines on the dresser next to your bed. He sits carefully, trying not to mess up what you just tidied. “Try not to think too much about what happened. I’ll find a way to recover the camera footage and report him.”

“…Recover the footage?” His last words catch your attention, and you position your pillow in place before lying down on your side of the bed. “What do you mean? Weren’t the cameras recording?”

“They were yesterday, but it seems they stopped working during the morning.” He adjusts himself beside you, looking at the ceiling. You notice how tired his eyes are, his eyelids seeming a little heavy. “Tomorrow I’ll notify someone to fix them. It doesn’t seem to be a physical problem, so they should be able to configure the cameras without coming here.”

He breathes deeply, and silence fills the room. You feel a tightness in your chest, a mixture of worry and guilt for everything happening.

“I’m sorry about that.” You wrap an arm around his neck and pull him close. He doesn’t resist and nestles against your chest. “I didn’t want to ruin our night.”

You feel his chest rise with a soft laugh. He takes your hand and rests it on top of your hair. “That was one of the best nights of my life, don’t apologize for it.”

You don’t respond while you begin to stroke his hair, your gaze focused on nothing. Isaac takes the opportunity to bring up the subject again.

“…Who was that?” He murmurs, as if the question were more to himself than to you. When you hesitate, he understands it as a sign that the question bothered you. “You don’t seem like someone who has enemies, [Name].”

And indeed, you don’t. Who would even pay attention to someone like you?

“He’s someone from the past.”

He lifts himself a little to look at you, waiting for you to elaborate.

“…Remember when you first found me? It’s him.”

At first, he doesn’t move, but in the blink of an eye, he’s completely upright, with his hands resting on each side of your body. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?!” His voice rises, full of anger that, although not directed at you, he couldn’t help. “I would’ve taken care of it! This is serious, I’m going to…”

You stop him by pulling him back into your arms. “Don’t be like that, you know I’m the only one to blame in this story.”

He snorts and hugs you tightly, as if venting his anger on your body. “I don’t care, you were broken in the past. You didn’t deserve this.”

Broken.

In a way, you kind of agree. But can you really say you’re “fixed” now? In the past, it seemed like you barely existed among people, an almost invisible shadow. And when someone finally truly saw you, it was you who ended up hurting them.

What changed? Today, no one but your husband seems to notice your presence. And someone from the past has come back, perhaps with the intention of destroying you completely.

You think you heard your husband say something to you, but you’re too lost in your own thoughts to pay attention.

Well, you're fine now. You don't need anyone else's company besides Isaac. Your life is good, your husband is perfect, and you don't feel lonely anymore. You're loved now, what more could you ask for?

The only problem would be... him. You can't let him ruin your life now, not when you're finally happy. Even if you deserve it, it's okay to be selfish, isn't it? You've been through enough. You don't have to think about what might happen to anyone else but Isaac.

You grab your phone after making a decision. Your fingers slide across the screen until you open the messaging app. Finding the contact doesn’t take long, since, aside from your husband, there are only a few spam messages. When you find what you're looking for, you unblock him and spend a few seconds thinking about how to start.

[You]: “Hi.” “We need to talk.”

Regret hits you the second the message is sent. Maybe that was too impulsive?

[Unknown]: "MY ANGEL!!" "I can't believe you unblocked me, I thought I’d have to buy another number tomorrow." "Are you okay? I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to scare you! I wanted to beg for your forgiveness the moment I saw your expression, but you seemed upset with me, so I didn’t want to make it worse :(" "Yeah, I should've approached you the way you did. The way I went about it, of course I was going to scare you by showing up like that… You're still just as clever as ever, angel!!"

You don't bother reading his messages again. It’s too late to take it back now.

[You]: “Can you come here tomorrow afternoon? My husband won’t be home at that time..” “I’ll prepare us some afternoon tea while we talk. It'll be good to catch up.”

[Unknown]: "Yes!! Of course I can!!"

As soon as you get the confirmation you needed, you turn off the phone. You put it on silent before placing it to charge, afraid the vibrating notifications might wake your husband. Before you can turn off the light, you notice the pills Isaac left on the nightstand.

For the first time, you're glad to take them.

You swallow the pills in one go with water and switch off the light. While the effects don’t kick in, your mind begins rehearsing what you'll say tomorrow. It doesn’t take long before you drift off.

The sound of quick typing fills the silence of the house, joined by the steady noise of printed pages being released. You carefully examine the documents, checking if every bit of information is correct.

After reviewing each word, you organize the papers into one of the hospital folders you keep, hoping they look convincing enough. Then, you store the folder back inside the small cabinet in the living room. Despite how well-executed everything is, you still can’t shake the restless thoughts crawling through your mind. What kind of partner invites another man into the house, besides their own husband?

It was hard to act normal that morning. You had to hold yourself together with everything you had to keep from falling apart in front of him, begging for forgiveness for talking to someone else without discussing it with him first. Even with that thought, your desire to protect him is stronger. This is for his sake.

The sound of the doorbell echoes through the room. He's here. You mentally review the lines you rehearsed last night before opening the door, doing everything you can to force a polite smile. "Good afternoon, you're right on time. Please, come in."

Henry seems to be trying not to smile more than he should. "I-It’s good to see you too, [Name]! Thank you for..." He cuts off, like trying to remember what he was going to say. "...welcoming me into your home." His voice, once trembling with restrained excitement, now sounds calmer.

He's not very good at this.

"I’ve been waiting for you. Let me take you to the table so we can talk." Even before you motion for him to follow, he’s already right behind you. As you walk, you watch him closely, one hand resting on the pocket knife hidden in your pocket.

Henry doesn’t seem nearly as cautious as you. He's just looking around as if memorizing every corner of your house, like he’s on a school tour. Though he appears relaxed, you don’t dare to lower your guard.

"The table looks amazing! Did you do all this for me?" He sits in the chair, and you sit across from him. When you don't answer, he turns toward you, giving you his full attention. It’s time to settle this.

You both sit in silence for a while, unsure of what to say. When you’re about to begin, Henry speaks first. "Can I go first? I think I owe you more of an explanation... Unless you’d rather go, I don’t mind!"

"I don’t mind. Go ahead." You cut him off gently.

He takes a deep breath. "I... I’m sorry."

The surprise hits your face before you can hold it back. You don’t have the courage to interrupt him this time.

"I didn’t understand back then. I thought you were just some messed-up person trying to hurt me, control me, steal my freedom... But no, you just wanted to protect me." His voice softens at the end.

…What?

He leans slightly toward you, and your whole body freezes, except for your hand, gripping the blade tighter in your pocket.. "You were scared of others hurting me, so you had to take extreme measures. I get it now. You were right. I only need you. No one else. Just you."

What is he saying?

You don't notice his hands approaching yours on the table."When I ran from you, I thought I’d finally be happy. I thought I’d be free… But I was wrong. Everyone around me, they were all awful. They all left me in the end. I should’ve listened to your wise words, [Name]. You were the only one who ever cared."

He's scaring you.

"I’m back now. I want to apologize for everything. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You were just trying to help me. Even after everything you did for me, I hurt you, abandoned you, betrayed you. But I’m willing to do anything to make it up to you. I’ll be exactly the way you wanted before, you still want to keep me with you, don’t you? I want that too. I trust you. You always knew how to take care of me, even when I didn’t deserve it. Thank you for showing me what love really is." His hands finally reach yours and squeeze them, firm enough to remind you who you’re dealing with.

He finished speaking, but you haven’t processed all of it yet.

This isn't Henry. What happened to him while he was gone? Has he lost his mind? His words terrify you. He reminds you so much… of who you used to be. And you hate it.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off you once, studying your expression. You’d better speak soon.

"Well..." You pull your hands away and rest them closer to you. He doesn’t protest, but his smile fades. "Before I answer you, I want to tell you my side of the story." Henry leans back in his chair, giving you his full attention.

"You know I'm... married now, right?" Something on his face seems to shift, but you continue. "When you left me that day, a man found me, and I've been with him ever since. Because of him, I finally managed to move on. I realized all the mistakes I made with you, I got the treatment I needed... I'm still in treatment, but I’ve been feeling so much better, like a completely different person."

You stand up and walk to the small cabinet in the room, pulling out a folder of documents. "I’ve been able to change, thanks to what you told me that day. I found something out during my last visit to the doctor, something I haven’t even told my husband yet." You sit down and spread the test results on the table, placing the main document in the center. "I had a blood test and... I found out I’m pregnant."

Henry can't hide the horror that invades his face. You hold yourself back from smiling more than usual.

"I know it sounds strange, I didn’t believe it at first either. The doctor said I’m going through a silent pregnancy and that I was lucky to find out this early." You notice his hands clenching into fists, squeezing hard. "All of this is thanks to you. I never imagined this day would come. If it weren’t for you making me see how sick I was back then, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Thank you so much for everything." When he finally looks away from the papers, you begin putting them back in the folder.

"You weren’t sick."

You don’t stop what you're doing until he speaks again.

"It broke my heart to hear that from you, [Name]." You can’t see his face now, but if you didn’t know him better, you’d think he was crying. "I’m not mad at you. I get it, you felt abandoned after what I did, so you went looking for someone else to fill that void. You don’t need him anymore, you can use me!" He suddenly stands up. You’d better calm him down before something happens.

He goes quiet when he feels your warm hands on his shoulders, pushing him gently back into the chair. "You're getting too agitated, Henry. I’ll go make us some tea, okay?"

Henry doesn’t say anything in response, but you notice his breathing seems to calm a little. You go into the kitchen and take the kettle off the stove, pouring the hot liquid into two cups. With the tea ready, there’s only one thing left. You take a small plastic bag of powdered arsenic from a secret compartment in the kitchen cabinet.

You’ve had this bag for years, but you don’t even remember what happened the first time you used it. You were so thrilled to have removed an obstacle between you and Henry that you didn’t even bother to see the result. Stupid you.

You’re just one gesture away from ending it all, but you can’t do it. Not for his life, but for what your husband would think. If you go through with it, wouldn’t you be proving to him that you still need treatment? That nothing has changed, even after everything?

No. That can’t happen. You don’t want him to still think you’re sick and keep giving you pills. All your effort, and his, will be for nothing if you do this.

Prove it, [Name]. Prove to him that you don’t need to hurt anyone to fix your problems.

You throw the bag in the trash and pick up the cups carefully, so you don’t spill anything. You just hope your story is convincing enough for Henry to leave you alone.

"I'm back. Sorry it took so long." You place one cup in front of him and the other on your side of the table. "I’m just going to put the documents away, then I’ll sit with you. No need to wait to drink."

You hear him quietly compliment the smell as you return the folder to the cabinet. You sit back down in the chair and take a deep breath, letting the scent soothe you. It helps you collect your thoughts. "Henry, look... I think, just like me, you should consider getting help if this is how you feel. This isn’t normal, and you know it. I’m sorry. I’m probably the one to blame for all of this." You raise the cup to your lips.

"Please don’t say things like that." He lowers his own cup back onto the table. "What did that man do to you? I spent so, so long looking for you... I kept blaming myself all this time, I thought you were dead! I felt like I’d lost a part of myself, but while I was going through hell to find you, you were with someone else?!"

You almost choke on your drink and lower your cup too, your hand moving to the pocket knife in your pocket again. "Henry, please, you need to listen to me, this isn’t healthy..."

"He’s messing with your mind! Don’t believe anything he told you!" He stands up and slams the table, hard enough to knock over the cups and spill their contents everywhere. "You’re better than this, [Name]! You weren’t like this! I guess I’ll have to make you see that."

You get up and back away from Henry, ready to pull the knife from your pocket if he tries anything. "Don’t talk like that about my husband, you have no right. We’ve talked about everything we needed to, now please leave my house."

He seems to calm down in response to your defensive stance, lowering his voice into something strangely soft. "If you wanted to kill me, you would’ve done it already." He walks toward you slowly, and with every step he takes, you grip the handle of the knife even tighter. "I thought you’d pull the same trick you did back then, but you didn’t. You didn’t have the courage."

In one quick movement, he lunges at you and grabs your wrist hard enough to make you drop the blade. He snatches the knife and throws it away. "That can only mean one thing, you still love me deep down. You’re just afraid to admit it."

Maybe from the shock, you’re starting to feel dizzy. "You’re delusional. If you don’t let go of me right now, I’ll..." A throbbing wave of pain floods your mind, and you reach for your head with your free hand. What’s happening to you?!

Henry’s grip vanishes from your wrist, and you take the chance to pull away and lean against the wall. Your breathing is now ragged. The man in front of you laughs at your condition, he looks proud for some reason.

"I can’t believe it actually worked." You try to push him away as he approaches again, but you can barely lift your arm. Your knees nearly give out, and you fight to stay on your feet. "Doesn’t this bring back memories? You used the same trick to take me to your house."

Your vision is the first sense to go. Henry uses the moment to steady your body against his. "Let’s go home, my angel. I’ll take good care of you, just like you took care of me."

The last thing you feel before blacking out is his lips pressing against yours.

You wake up somewhere comfortable, too comfortable even, though not enough to make you forget the unbearable pain pounding in your head. Your body feels numb and you are still a little drowsy. It is hard to move, but you manage to sit up. The drowsiness disappears the moment you realize you don’t recognize where you are.

No, this can’t be happening.

The memories from before you blacked out flood your mind all at once. That gives you the impulse to try to stand, but as soon as you put pressure on your body, your legs fail and you collapse back onto the bed. What kind of drug did he give you?!

Even so, you won’t give up.

This time, you try to lean on the headboard. Although it requires some effort, you manage to get up. If you use the wall and nearby furniture as support, maybe you can reach the door to examine the lock.

The journey to the door isn’t as difficult as you expected. The doorknob looks like a simple wooden model, easy to break. When you turn it, you are surprised to see the door is open. Is he really that careless?

You don’t waste time and open the door. The hallway is dark, but a light at the end reveals an L-shaped staircase. The way there isn’t long, just a little complicated because of the low visibility.

When you get to landing, you finally see where all the light comes from. Before you continue, you take a break to observe. On the right, there are some stacked boxes. On the left, it seems that a living room is being assembled or something similar.

“Angel, you’re finally awake! You are...”

A familiar voice comes from your right. You recognize it immediately, but the shock is so great your legs fail. You try to steady yourself and grab the railing, but your body is still weak.

That gives Henry enough time to reach you and pull you tightly to his chest.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I got too excited... I should have been more careful...” Each of his words is accompanied by an even tighter hug, to the point your feet barely touch the floor.

You let out an impatient sigh, hoping he will stop. When he doesn’t let go, you try to push him away.

Only then does he pull back enough to look at you. “You are having trouble walking, aren’t you? Do you want me to help?”

You press your lips together, feeling a mix of anger and fear growing inside you. “Stop trying to be nice. It’s your fault I’m like this. Who drugs a pregnant person? Aren’t you afraid I might lose the baby or die?” you reprimand him.

What really seems to affect him is the idea that something might happen to you. “That was careless of me, I-I know...” he murmurs, disappointed in himself. “Let’s sit on the couch, then you can tell me how you’re feeling.”

You don’t complain when he puts his arm around your waist and helps you get to the couch. It’s better not to upset him if you want to leave here as soon as possible.

As soon as he sits next to you, you ask, “What did you give me? Is it already night? Did I sleep the whole day?” You almost doubt your own question. Less than 24 hours shouldn’t be enough for your legs to be this weak.

“A-Actually...” He can’t look you in the eyes. “You have been asleep for a whole week.”

A whole week…?!

You can’t believe the words you just heard. What could have happened during all that time? Isaac must be going crazy looking for you!

The heavy silence between you makes Henry visibly tense. Your silence scares him so much he feels the need to justify his actions. “I couldn’t find the drug you used on me back then, so I bought another to replace it. I didn’t expect a single dose to make you sleep for a whole week.”

“Liar.” That’s the only response you give him.

He opens his mouth to argue, but your stare shuts him up. He knows there’s no argument that could convince you.

“To my knowledge, there’s no medicine that makes you sleep for a whole week. At least... not if you only take a single dose.” You don’t hide the accusation in your tone.

He shrinks in his seat and lowers his head in surrender. “There really is no way to argue with you, [Name]...” He murmurs before summoning courage to look at you again. “I swear I didn’t mean to upset you or anything! I-I just hadn’t finished preparing our home when I brought you here, so I had to do that so you wouldn’t wake up in a mess...”

You raise an eyebrow. “Preparing the house? What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t my plan to bring you here yet, it was more of an impulse...” He admits, scratching the back of his neck. “My intention was that when I found you, we would build a place together. Just like you wanted before. What I didn’t expect was that someone else had their hands on you, so I had to do what I did...”

You laugh scornfully and roll your eyes. “You brought me here without even doing the minimum? That doesn’t look like following my footsteps at all. I would never have made such a basic mistake in the past.”

“But I was desperate, just like you!”

You turn your back to him. He doesn’t deserve your anger.

“My angel...” He wraps his arms around your body, gently pulling you closer. “I’ll do better, okay? But all I ask is for your cooperation. Please, stay with me.”

You admit you feel strange. His words remain as sweet as ever. If you were still obsessed with him, you would fall for them without thinking twice.

Your dissatisfaction shows clearly, and he notices. So he tries again.

“How about we go out tonight? It’s a little late, but it might help you relax! Look how beautiful the moon is tonight!” He suggests, gently turning your face toward the window.

You didn’t expect him to let you out so easily.

It’s strange. He must be very confident... or maybe this is a trade. If you give him what he wants, he’ll give you what you want.

Alright. Let’s play his game.

“I think...” The hand that was holding your chin slowly slides down your chest to rest on your stomach. “The baby would like that, don’t you think? A walk will also be good for your legs.”

Putting aside how he has been acting toward you, he hasn’t changed much inside. Henry has always been like this, using others’ weaknesses to get what he wants.

“Okay, fine.” You give in and turn to face him. “But I don’t know how you expect me to walk after being drugged for a week.”

He thinks for a few seconds, then a smile lights up his face. You don’t like that kind of reaction.

“How about I give you a massage? I know how! I trained a bit in the past, now I can show you what I learned!” He approaches, trying to show enthusiasm. The idea of being touched by anyone other than your husband makes you uncomfortable, but it will be good for you. The less dependent you are on him, the better.

“I’ll accept.” You say while adjusting yourself. “But on one condition, you can only touch my legs. Understood?”

He quickly nods and stands, going to the drawer under the TV. “Whatever you want, angel. Do you want to lie down or sit?”

“I heard lying down is best.” You reply as he comes back with oils, creams, and a small towel. He puts everything on the floor and sits beside you, then puts his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing them back. “P-Please lie down and stretch your legs for me.”

You obey, but as soon as you look at him from your position, you regret it. It’s a bit embarrassing, but what didn’t he go through to earn your trust in the past?

Henry shyly looks away at the jars under the sofa. “D-Do you prefer oil or cream?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never had a massage like this before.”

He looks up, surprised, while taking the oil and spreading it in one hand. “Really? Seems like that man really wasn’t for you.” He quietly mocks as he spreads some viscous liquid on one of your legs. You bite your tongue so hard you taste metal. How dare he?

You take a deep breath and close your eyes.

Just pretend it’s your husband in front of you and you’ll feel better.

Henry warms the oil between his palms, rubbing until the liquid is warm and silky. He starts with your right leg, placing his hands just above the ankle. With long, firm movements, he spreads the oil, leaving your skin shiny and soft. The sensation of his touch combined with the warmth of the oil makes the tense muscles in your leg slowly relax. His fingers travel every curve, pressing and gently kneading the knots of stiffness, alternating between firm pressure and lighter touches, in a steady rhythm.

When he finishes, Henry wipes his hands on the towel beside him before grabbing the jar of cream. He opens the cream and scoops a generous amount, starting to spread it on the left leg. The texture is thicker, softer, and cold at first contact, creating a contrast with the right leg where the oil warms and slides easily. His fingers make slower, softer circular motions, requiring a bit more effort to spread the cream, but without losing the lightness in the touch.

The sweet scent of the cream fills the air as the difference between the two sensations becomes clear. The right leg, covered by oil, slides under Henry’s hands, while the left leg needs friction and extra care to absorb the cream. You feel the skin being hydrated and the muscles releasing stiffness with every movement as the massage dissolves not only physical tension but a part of emotional discomfort.

Lost in your own world, you don’t notice the soft sighs, sounds of pleasure, and murmurs slipping from your lips. Henry, hovering above you, feels his body respond immediately to each of those sounds. The desire inside him grows with every movement you make, causing his breathing to quicken and his heart to pound faster. Despite trying to control himself, he can’t hold back the excitement that overtakes him. His eyes catch every change in your expression, every sigh, every murmur, feeding the fire burning within him even more. The heat rises quickly, making it hard for him to stay calm. His hands stay firmly on your legs, but inside he feels an intense urgency, as if every sound you make is an invitation impossible to refuse.

"[Name]... A-Am I doing good?" His voice barely rises above a whisper, so soft that for a moment you wonder if you even heard it.

The enchantment of the moment fades as reality comes rushing back to your mind. You’re not in your bed, next to your husband, listening to soft music while he cracks jokes that draw a light laugh from you. You’re here.

"Ah, yeah..." You part your eyes slightly. "Yeah, you’re not bad at this." Although your words are meant to boost his ego, they aren’t exactly untrue. "I’m feeling much better now. You can stop, thanks."

He seems disappointed when you stand up, but you pretend not to notice. “Anything for you, my angel.” He picks up the items from the floor and walks over to the drawer. “I’m just going to grab a few things for us to take before we leave.”

“Wait.” You stop him. “Aren’t I going to get dressed?”

“No need.” He answers without turning fully, just glancing back over his shoulder. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

You frown but say nothing.

“Sandwiches, pies, fruit, cakes…” You name each food item you find in the basket. “You really put a lot of effort into this…”

“It’s my first date with my angel in a long time, so I gave it my best.” He says proudly as he turns the car key in the ignition. “And you must be starving after everything.”

You put the food back into the basket. “Actually, no, and that reminds me…” You cross your legs before speaking. “I really hope no stranger touched me.”

“...What do you mean?” His voice is heavy with concern.

Sitting in the back seat, the front seatback partially hides their face. “You know very well,” you reply firmly. “You can’t leave someone unconscious and unsupervised, especially someone who’s pregnant.”

His hands tremble on the wheel, his body tense. He’s so predictable.

“I trust you.” You lie, turning your gaze to the window. “I’m sure it’s someone you trust.”

You wait for his response, but all you get is a shy “thank you.” You thought you might get some information from him. He probably doesn’t trust you enough to talk about others…

Too bad. You can cross the plan of asking for help off your list.

You rest your head against the car window, watching the city streets. With the windows closed and silence all around, you feel trapped and anxious. Whenever you were with Isaac, he kept the windows open and talked nonstop, you never had time to get bored.

Maybe it’s better this way. You don’t want to seem suspicious on your first day, after all.

The city slowly fades away, and the streets give way to forest. Trees line both sides of the road, and the pavement turns into dirt. You say nothing and keep watching the scenery change.

You don’t know how much time passes until Henry parks the car.

“Are we there yet?” You ask confused, trying to get a better look through the window. “I don’t recognize this place…”

“I thought this place would be familiar to you.” He says as he gets out and opens the door for you. “But it makes sense, your memories of here aren’t good.” He holds out his hand.

You raise an eyebrow and place your hand in his. “Then why would you bring me here?”

“Because I want to change that.” He pulls you out of the car, locks the doors, and gestures toward the trail ahead. “Let's walk from here. I think the walk might help you remember.”

You try to ignore the fact he hasn’t let go of your hand and start looking around. It looks like any ordinary forest.

That’s what you think before you look closer. Every detail reminds you of a specific place, one you never expected to visit again. The benches covered with dry leaves, the broken and dry birdbath, the signs so faded you can barely read them... And the sound of flowing water growing louder with every step you take.

“We are here.”

You turn your face to look down the path ahead. Even after all this time, the lookout hasn’t changed.

Your hand slips from Henry’s as you start walking toward the fence.

The ground is damp and slippery, covered in wet leaves. The fence looks more fragile than you remember, the wood dark and worn by time, with some parts broken or crooked. You stop in front of it, hesitate for a moment, then carefully place your hands on it and lean in to look.

The water crashes down hard, hitting the rocks below with a loud splash. The fall raises a fine mist that rises into the air and touches your face, leaving your skin slightly wet. The air around you is fresh and humid, filled with the characteristic scent of clean water and nature. The breeze that stirs your hair is refreshing, and you breathe deeply.

The view of the waterfall is beautiful, as always.

“Be careful.” Henry says as he covers one of your hands with his. “The fence isn’t as sturdy as it used to be.”

“Seems like it...” you whisper more to yourself than to him.

It’s exactly like that day, except you were alone.

Or so you thought.

The path is silent, only the sound of your footsteps can be heard. You’re wearing your best hairstyle, your best clothes, your best shoes, and your backpack, which holds all your favorite things. It’s been so long since you dressed up that you don’t even remember the last time you did.

You want to look around as you walk, to observe this place one last time, to engrave every detail in your memory. But you feel that if you take your eyes off the path ahead, you’ll lose your courage.

The sky is already brightening, the sun starting to rise. You feel a slight warmth behind you, or at least you think you do.

You can’t turn around to check. There’s no better opportunity than this, don’t risk losing it, [Name].

Your steps stop when you reach the lookout. It’s a shame no one else is here, they’re missing a wonderful view. Well, that just makes things easier for you.

Taking a deep breath, you sit on the fence and look down. The sound of the waterfall relaxes you, the way the water plunges soothes you in the best possible way. It gives you the courage to look back one last time.

The sun is like any other day, but… You feel like it’s special now. It will witness what you’re about to do. Smiling to yourself, you stare until it’s strong enough to make you close your eyes, this will be the last thing you see now. Although the waterfall view is your favorite, you feel you’d hesitate if you saw it one more time.

You turn your head forward. Don't open your eyes, [Name].

Your grip on the fence weakens and your breathing grows unsteady, but you try to ignore it. You feel your body moving forward until you’re no longer touching the fence.

You’re falling.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

A desperate voice shouts behind you, making your eyes snap open immediately. You’re falling, you really are!

The fear is interrupted by a groan of pain from you as you feel yourself being abruptly stopped under your arms. Something is pulling your backpack, or rather, someone.

Your gaze breaks away from the landscape below you as the person above you shouts, “Give me your hand, I can’t hold the weight of your backpack and you together!” He reaches toward you, but you look away. This man ruined everything!

“N-No… Let go…!” You try to scream, but your voice comes out more like a trembling whimper. You feel tears starting to fall from your eyes.

“Are you crazy?! I’m not letting you go! Give me your hand before I fall with you!” He removes his hand from the fence and reaches toward you. His body seems to slide down with you, which pushes you to grab his hand, and he immediately pulls you up. When your feet reach the fence, you lean on it, giving him the leverage he needs to pull both of you up to the ground.

The only sound between you is heavy breathing for a moment. When he recovers, he sits to look at you.

“Hey!” The man exclaims. “That’s not how you solve things! You know what would happen if…” He stops when he notices the tears you tried to hide with your head down.

You lift your head just a little to look at him, but he’s looking at your backpack, which is half open, visibly uncomfortable. When he turns back to you, you lower your gaze.

“I… I didn’t mean to snoop, but…” His voice is soft and low now, so soft you barely hear it. “You seem to have some really cool stuff in your backpack. Do you mind showing me?” He gently moves one of the hands covering your face and replaces it with a handkerchief, wiping your tears. His touch is so warm…

“They do look pretty cool, especially that book there, or is it a notebook? I don’t know, but its cover is very pretty.” The man seems to be running out of things to say, your silence isn’t helping him.

No one ever cared about your interests before… It would be rude to refuse after what he did for you, you think.

Your voice trembles as you talk about each of your favorite things. You stammer as you explain the story behind each one, but as time passes, you calm down. His reactions encourage you to keep going, and you manage to forget what happened minutes ago.

You feel warm inside. He’s smiling as he talks with you, so that must mean he feels the same, right?

No one ever cared so much about you before… You like this feeling.

You don’t want to stop feeling it ever.

The memory is still fresh in your mind. It’s a little funny to think that a memory once so important to you is now one you want to erase as much as possible.

“That’s why I brought you here.” Henry takes the basket from your hands. “I want us to make new memories in this place. Good memories. So the old ones stay behind… And your smile will never disappear when you come here again.” He unfolds the waterproof tarp and spreads it over the wooden floor.

Good memories… That would be nice. When you escape, you have to bring your husband here.

You kneel beside him, helping to organize the picnic. The silence between you is heavy, weighted by his words. And although the contempt you feel for him is hard to ignore, the words slip out before you can hold them back.

“Thank you for saving me that day.”

If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have met the love of your life. All the pain ended up being worth it in the end.

“I think I’m the one who should thank you for trying something so absurd.” He sits next to you. “From that moment on, we began to belong to each other. Even if I didn’t realize it at first...”

You try to ignore what he said.

The picnic was... strangely peaceful. You sat away from him to avoid any physical contact, and he respected that. You talked about many different things, ordinary things. You don’t like it, why is he acting like this is a normal couple’s date?

You feel like you’re experiencing firsthand what he felt when you took him to your house. What a bad feeling.

“Time passed quickly..”. Henry looks at his phone. "It's already pretty late. Are you feeling tired?"

"No." You shake your head. "After days of sleeping, I doubt that’s enough to tire me out."

"Then how about we go down there?" He suggests, putting away what’s left of the picnic in the basket. "It’s a bit chilly, but I think it’ll be nice to dip our feet in the water."

The excitement in your eyes says it all. "Now I get why there were some towels at the bottom of the basket!" You smile, standing up and following the trail leading to the river. "This place looks abandoned for years… There must be plenty of fish for us to catch."

“O-Oh you wanted to fish? Sorry…” He replies, surprised, starting to follow you carefully, watching his step not to slip. “I didn’t bring any fishing rods, and...” He stops noticing you’re already far ahead. “W-Wait! Don't go so fast, angel! You might fall!”

“I can get down this with my eyes closed!” You shout impatiently at his slow pace. “Fishing rods are for the weak! Don’t be so slow.”

Without waiting for an answer, you go straight to the riverbank and crouch down. Your eyes try to peer through the water surface, where some strange movements break the calm of the river. Something is there, but you can’t see exactly what it is.

Henry approaches and crouches beside you. “By the shore, fish are usually small...” He slowly reaches out, trying not to scare the creatures swimming nearby. “The water is less cold than I expected.”

“Can you shine the light on the water for me? I think I see a big fish.”

He silently obeys, turning on his phone’s flashlight, casting a beam on the surface. “You’re right! But it’s a bit far.”

You take off your shoes and slowly dip your feet into the river, feeling the slippery ground beneath your skin. The cold makes your body shiver, but you don’t lose focus. Henry watches you curiously but doesn’t interfere.

You slowly approach the spot where the big fish is moving, lit by the flashlight. When you’re close, you lunge to try to grab it, but it disappears too fast, escaping before your hands can touch it.

In the attempt, your clothes get wet, cold water touching your skin and making the fabric stick to you. The chilly wind blows, and you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep warm. It’s freezing!

You feel a coat placed over your shoulders. “Are you okay, angel? Want me to get a towel for you?” 

“No.” You take off the coat and hand it back. “Keep it. Let’s try to catch a fish together.”

You step deeper into the water but don’t hear him coming after you. When you look back, Henry is there, standing in the same spot, with a huge smile lighting up his entire face, almost like a child who just got an unexpected gift. He shakes his head in disbelief at himself, as if he can’t believe he’s really there, living this moment.

“I-I won’t let you down, you can bet on that! I’ll catch as many fish as you want! Seriously, as many as you want, I’ll catch them all! Leave it to me, I-I won’t let you down!” He punches his chest with a closed fist, trying to convey all the confidence in the world, even though the nervousness still shines in his eyes.

He’s slightly out of breath, as if the excitement itself took the air from his lungs. His eyes dart around, looking for some approval on your face. It’s almost funny to see someone so determined about something so simple. But still, there’s something genuine about his effort that makes you hesitate to ignore him completely.

You weren’t paying attention to what he was saying, and the sound of his voice wasn’t helping.

“You’re going to scare the fish if you don’t stay quiet! Here, stay by my side!” You reached your hand out to him, and he grabbed it immediately. You pulled him close. “Help me spot them.”

And that’s how you ended up there for a long time. Henry was incredibly fast. You would spot the fish and point with a simple gesture, and he’d catch them almost instantly. He used his own shirt as a net to hold them.

The shirt, now wet and heavy, swayed with every movement. The fish struggled inside the fabric, but he kept control. As the pile grew, so did Henry’s smile, satisfied with each little catch. You watched him from the side, surprised by his efficiency.

So fast... Any plan that depends on reflexes can be discarded.

You feel a sudden light touch, like a pinch against the skin of your leg. Looking down, you see a small but agile fish swimming near your ankle. Without thinking twice, you reach forward to grab it. For a moment, you manage to hold it firmly between your fingers.

But an unexpected pain in your foot makes you drop the fish immediately. Looking down, you realize you stepped on something sharp among the river stones, a pointed rock or maybe a broken branch hidden in the murky water. The cut starts to bleed, and the fish quickly disappears into the depths.

“Oh God! Angel, what happened?!” Your pain didn’t go unnoticed.

You click your tongue and notice the blood spreading in the water around you. Better get out fast before it attracts something dangerous.

“I think I stepped on something sharp.” You complain unhappily, it looks like you’ll have to settle for what you caught. “It’s nothing serious, don’t worry, I’ve hurt myself many ti—”

“Of course it is!” He wraps one arm behind your shoulders and the other behind your knees. “What if it gets infected? I’ll carry you to the shore so I can check it properly.”

You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms. “Since when do you care about that? You always said it was nothing when you got hurt and I took care of you.”

“I know, I know...” He gently sits you on the riverbank. “But now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

Now that he's no longer touching you, you realize how warm his body was. Makes sense, after all, you were underwater longer than he was.

Henry carefully holds your foot and begins examining it. You don’t dare interrupt his focus. When he pulls away, he looks relieved. “It’s not deep, but it will need treatment at home.”

His concern is like your husband’s, but what you find cute in your husband, you find annoying in Henry.

“See?” You pull your foot back. “I told you, I’m used to hurting myself in places like this...” The last words come out almost in a whisper because you notice he still hasn’t let go of your foot, and his eyes are fixed on you. More precisely, on your stomach.

“That was me, wasn’t it...?”

Following his gaze, you realize how see-through your shirt has become against your body, and the scar stands out the most.

A surprised sigh escapes you as you feel his hand slide under your shirt, lightly caressing it. It’s so gentle you barely feel the contact, only the warmth of his fingers.

After sliding his hand over every inch of the scar, he whispers again. “I’m so sorry, so very sorry...” His palm presses a little harder against your skin, fingers moving slowly, massaging the area carefully. “I mistreated your body so much... You didn’t deserve this...”

You feel your muscles tense under his touch, even though his movements are gentle. It’s uncomfortable, but you try not to show it. When he pulls his hand away from your stomach, you finally exhale the breath you’d been holding without realizing it.

But your calm doesn’t last long. “I know now what you truly deserve.” Both his hands are now on your body, roaming over your torso. The heat from his skin seems to transfer to yours, and you feel his fingers moving as if trying to memorize every part of you. “You deserve to be worshiped. Every limb, every part of your body… deserves all the attention and love possible.”

You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten until you feel his warm breath against your ear, making you flinch. After what feels like hours adoring your torso, he moves to your legs.

“Are you still mad at me?” He asks while squeezing the back of your thigh. Your leg moves back reflexively, but he holds it firmly, not letting you pull away. “I understand... words don’t compare to actions. If you want, you can...”

You feel his other hand wrap around yours, placing something metallic between your fingers and tightening your grip around it. “...do the same to me.”

It’s only when he pulls back a little that you realize what you’re holding. Your pocket knife. Pointed directly at his stomach. The same spot where your scar is. “Would that make you feel better?”

“I know nothing can erase all the pain you’ve felt...” He loosens his grip on your hand and slowly lets go, noticing you’re frozen. “But I want to spend the rest of our lives worshiping your body.”

“You will never feel alone again. I promise.”

You're back in your “home” again. Henry treated the wound on your foot, and to end the night, he decided to make popcorn so you could watch a movie together. Remote in hand, you flip through the channels mechanically, not really paying attention to what’s on.

Frightening.

Your mind won’t stop replaying what happened earlier. What’s wrong with him? He needs help. How can someone love a person they haven’t seen in years? Especially someone who’s hurt them so badly? His devotion to you is terrifying. You can’t make sense of it.

At least, not anymore.

Your train of thought breaks when you hear your name being said from somewhere. More specifically, from the TV. You scroll back through the channels until you land on a news report.

Wait... is that you?

A missing person report flashes on screen. Your photo appears next to the headline, followed by images of familiar places. They talk about the last time you were seen, the ongoing investigation, the lack of leads. It hasn’t even been that long since you vanished. How are you already being declared missing?

By the end of the segment, your husband’s face appears. He looks pale, worn down, his eyes full of quiet suffering. His voice trembles as he speaks about how hard everything has been without you. How much he misses you. How he’d do anything to have you back.

Your chest tightens so painfully it almost feels like it might burst. It’s as if something deep inside you is cracking open. You’ve never been away from your husband for this long.

How dare you enjoy yourself while he’s in so much pain? Your husband has no one but you. He must be so disappointed. Someone like you should’ve found a way out by now.

His absence feels like a part of you was ripped out by force.

"My angel! Look, I brought a few things…" But your eyes stay locked on the screen. Once he notices what’s playing, he drops everything on the couch and rushes over to the TV, switching it off manually. But it’s too late. You saw it all.

He seems disoriented, unsure what to say. "You must have a lot of people who care about you. I didn’t think it would cause such a stir. It’s already on the news." There’s barely concealed nervousness in his voice. It’s clear he wasn’t prepared to face the consequences of keeping someone here against their will.

Your chest aches so deeply it’s hard to breathe. For you, it’s only been a day, but for your husband? It’s been seven. Seven. Six times longer than what you’ve felt. And here you are, relaxing. How selfish. He must believe you’re dead. He’d never imagine you might be with another man.

"Do you miss him?" A cold voice asks from your side.

No… Don’t tell the truth.

Don’t ruin this, [Name]. Make this pain mean something. Turn the weight in your chest into leverage.

"Yeah... But not exactly him." You hadn’t realized you were crying, but now you use it to make your voice tremble. "I miss having a partner. Not just a boyfriend, but a husband. Someone to share everything with. Body and soul." You try to wipe your tears away, but before your hand reaches your cheek, Henry pulls you into a tight hug that steals your breath.

"P-Please don’t cry, my angel!" He runs his fingers through your hair like you’re a frightened child. "We have all the time in the world. I’ll take care of you better than he ever did. I’ll be the husband you deserve. I’ll be everything you want, and more."

You’ll never be better than him.

"You promise?" You force yourself to hug him back, wiping your face on his shoulder.

"I promise!” His other hand slowly slides down your back. "Maybe you’re feeling this way because you’re used to taking a lot of medication every day. I bought some new pain meds to replace the ones you used to take. They’re simple, harmless, and I’ll let you decide if you want them. Doesn’t that sound good?"

Putting the deception aside, he’s probably right. You must be emotionally unstable after going so long without your medication. The fear of your treatment regressing haunts you.

"It does. Thank you."

...

You need to get out of here. As soon as possible.

How much time has passed?

Ever since you started trying to earn his trust, you did your best not to stay aware of how many days had gone by. You made sure that not a single day was wasted, and little by little, you managed to get him to treat your relationship as something normal. The only thing you couldn’t get was the freedom to leave. Not that you were expecting it, of course. You wouldn't take the risk either if your loved one had thousands of missing person posters out there.

You tried to gain weight without him noticing. It would be suspicious if your body went too long without even small changes, especially after you started refusing in-person visits from your doctor and settling only for remote consultations through messages. Your plan was risky, but still... Henry didn’t seem to care about it at all.

The only time he seemed to care was when he came offering strange pills, saying they were for pain, nausea, and cramps. You refused immediately, thinking he might be testing you. He didn’t push, and left the pills in the cabinet, telling you to take them whenever you wanted. It was odd, but you didn’t question it.

After that, strange things began happening to your body. Abdominal cramps, nausea, dizziness... Henry was always there when it happened, as if he somehow knew. After staying by your side until you felt better, he would always ask the same question.

"Is the baby okay?"

It didn’t sound like concern. Whenever you answered, you could tell he was disappointed. He never mentioned the baby directly. It was like he pretended it was just you and him. The only part of your pregnancy he seemed to enjoy was your dependence on him. That's good, because it makes him let his guard down around you.

But you feel like he’s starting to suspect something.

Henry began insisting that you see a doctor, wanting to know how you and the baby were doing. You managed to stall him by saying everything was fine, but it wasn’t enough. He eventually scheduled an appointment for you, and that’s why you had to rush your escape plan.

But luck is on your side. You found the perfect opportunity.

Right now, you’re leaning against the wall, trying to find the right words. The magazine in your hands is your way out. According to it, the new museum is opening tonight. You’ve spent these last few days being as sweet as possible. There’s no way he’ll say no to your request.

"Henry?" You force a soft, honeyed tone in your voice. "Are you busy? I’d like to talk to you."

He puts away the last piece of clothing in your wardrobe before turning to face you. "Never for you, my angel." He immediately notices the magazine in your hands. "What is it?"

"I know it’s a bold request, but..." You lift the page with the article about the museum opening. "Look! It’s happening tonight. I-I thought it’d be nice if you and I went together."

He leans in slightly, looking more closely at the page.

Please don’t notice the details you’re purposely covering with your fingers.

"Looks fun." He straightens back up, and you hold back a sigh of relief. "But why are you only asking me now? That event has been announced for a while."

"I was afraid you’d say no."

No. The truth is that you were trying to minimize the chances of that happening.

"You’ve been inside for a long time. That can’t be good for you..." He pauses for a few seconds, then turns back to the wardrobe. "Get ready, my angel. We’re going out tonight."

You did it!

"Really?!" You hug him from behind. "I’ll go shower right now! Thank you, thank you!"

Without waiting for a reply, you rush off to the bathroom. Your excitement is obvious, even if it’s for entirely different reasons than what he probably thinks.

He didn’t question the details you covered. That’s good. Even though you doubt he’s been looking into your husband, you didn’t want to take any chances. The event is hosted by the city hall, so the chances of your husband being there are high. All you have to do is find him. Once he sees you, he’ll definitely find a way to fix everything.

Isaac will probably be disappointed, but... You can’t afford to miss this chance.

You glance at yourself in the car's rearview mirror, studying every detail of your face. The features that define who you are now feel hidden under layers of makeup.

Of course he wouldn’t let you leave without a disguise. You’ve never worn this much makeup before. It kind of worries you. What if your husband doesn’t recognize you like this? You’ll need to try harder.

“What’s wrong, my angel?” he says as he gently squeezes your wrist. “You look stunning. Come on, we’ve arrived.”

He opens the door for you, and as you step out, you take a deep breath. It’s been so long since you were last outside. You had forgotten how fresh air feels. But that freedom lasts only a second, until his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close.

“Be discreet.”

Those are the only words he says before turning to face the people around you. You need to be careful. Just being here is already a miracle. He’s probably going to keep his eyes on you the entire time.

As you step into the museum, your eyes immediately scan the surroundings. There's plenty here to keep him distracted.

"That sculpture is beautiful." You gesture toward a kneeling, blindfolded androgynous figure. "But it also looks sad… Have you heard of it?"

He looks at the sculpture you’re pointing at. "No, but it says here it’s about someone..."

You pretend to listen while your eyes scan the crowd, searching for the familiar face of your husband.

"I didn’t know… That’s tragic."

If you can keep up the act, it will be easier to keep Henry distracted. It's hard to talk, stay aware of your surroundings, and fake your posture around him all at once, but you'll have a harder time if you let him stay this alert.

With each passing minute, distracting him becomes more difficult, and your nervousness only grows. The number of people around is increasing, which makes it harder to find who you're looking for and also gets in the way of your attempts to use the environment as a distraction. It's hard even to walk properly.

“Everyone is heading to the main hall. It’s probably just going to be the director’s thanks to the audience.” Henry pushed some people aside with his body, making way for you. “Come on, we can’t be the only ones outside.”

“Alright, but we better stay alert.” You took a step back, putting some distance between you and the crowd to avoid being pushed, your hand resting protectively on your belly. “I’m afraid this crowd might accidentally bump into the baby.”

“Yeah, you’re right...” He let go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, helping you keep your balance as you walked. “Are you okay? You’ve been bending your back more than usual since we got here.”

“I’m not used to this much physical activity...” You said, gently pushing away some people who were too close to your belly. “But it’s fine, it’s actually good for the baby.”

You both manage to find a quieter spot in the middle of the crowd and settle there. Even though the announcement is about to start, the crowd is still noisy.

“Let’s stay here, we have a perfect view of the staircase.”

With Henry finally distracted, the mask you’d been holding slips from your hand. Where the hell is your husband?!

You look around, trying to spot every face you can in the crowd. It can’t be, he has to be here!

Some of his coworkers are on the other side of the hall, gathered near someone who seems to be the director, also a familiar face. It makes no sense for him not to be here.

The acknowledgments are about to begin, it would be weird if you’re the only one not paying attention.

Your eyes start to sting. You should’ve seen this coming. Why were you so sure he’d come? Could it be that he’s...

Before you can think too much, a very familiar voice grabs your attention. You turn your head so fast you barely notice the movement.

You’d recognize that face even from afar. The certainty hits you the moment he looks at you with the same surprise.

Everything inside you seems to stop. It’s like the missing piece of you has finally returned.

He’s here.

Isaac is here.

But the spell breaks the instant someone crosses your line of sight and suddenly, he’s gone.

Like a ghost.

No, he can’t just disappear like that!

Or at least, you thought you did.

The group he seemed to be with greets you casually. No one there recognizes you.

Again, emptiness swallows you whole. No, you didn’t imagine him. You saw him. He was here. He looked right at you!

No matter how much you look for him again, he doesn’t show up.

No... What have you done?

The hand that spins you around isn’t enough to catch your attention, but the voice that follows is.

“That’s odd. Was that enough to make all the tiredness from your ‘pregnancy’ disappear instantly?”

Even though the voices of the crowd are loud, his voice sounds louder.

Wait, that?

“You... saw him too?”

Indignation crosses Henry’s face before rage floods it.

He saw him too! Isaac is here, you knew you weren’t imagining things!

“I can’t believe you did this to me...” He seems to be purposely hiding his expression from you. “Since when were you lying?! I can’t trust you... This was a mistake. Let’s go home. Now.”

His grip on your shoulders reminds you of the situation you’re in. You ruined everything. Because of your impatience, you broke everything you had built.

He will never trust you again. He’ll lock you up, isolate you from everyone, or worse.

You’ll never see your husband again.

That thought gives you the push you need.

“No, NO! I’m not going back, not with you!” You shove him hard in the chest. He immediately steps back, surprised.

You run through the crowd toward the exit door. If he catches you, it's all over. It will be the end.

The door feels heavier than it should as you push it open, but the small gap you manage to create is enough to slip through. It’s not the same hallway you were in before, but that doesn’t matter now. You can’t think straight, you need to find a place to hide. Somewhere far from him.

The corridor is empty, not even the guards are here watching the artworks. When you reach the end, you realize the only exit leads straight back to the crowd.

You won’t face that again. Your only option is to climb the stairs.

The door starts to open, and fear freezes you for a moment. Without hesitation, you quickly step back and run toward the stairs.

In your panic, as you turn and climb the steps, you don’t notice you’ve bumped into a candleholder that’s part of an art installation.

You don’t stop until you see the stairs end, you’re on the top floor. This doesn’t look like a public area for visitors, but even so, you feel uncomfortable in such an open space, so you enter the last room down the hall.

It looks like an art restoration room, full of chemicals and solvents. If you knock them over, it could cause a big problem. You hide under a table where you have a clear view of the door.

…

What should you do now?

Relief flows through your body as soon as you hide, and now you can think more clearly.

You were impulsive, but... it’s not all lost. Your husband is here, you need to catch him somewhere isolated, and before Henry finds you. You could ask anyone you cross for help, but that would definitely upset your husband and damage his reputation. It wouldn’t be good if his beloved became the center of attention, especially after all the effort he must have put into opening this place.

Even though you’re decided about what to do, you’re still a little anxious, so you stay hidden a few more minutes, taking advantage of the time to try to remove the makeup from your face. Your husband has already recognized you, but it’s good to be cautious.

With your face hopefully clean, you come out from under the table and take a deep breath.

...

This air isn’t clean. What’s happening outside?

You open the door and the smell of smoke fills your nose, so thick it blurs your vision. Such dense smoke can only mean one thing.

Fire.

There’s nothing else on this floor but smoke. But it would be risky to go down to the first floor, you don’t know the situation there.

Your legs are shaking, fear is taking over you again.

You look out the window. There are already several people outside the museum while fire trucks are arriving and entering the building.

If they find you, they will definitely take you to Henry. You can’t rely on them.

You go to the window on the other side of the museum, the exit there seems to have fewer firefighters than the entrance. But either way, you’ll have to go down the stairs.

Your fear messes with your thinking as you run down the stairs, you feel sparks burning your skin. Each floor you go down seems worse, your eyes sting, making it harder to see the steps.

When you reach the last one, you see it. The fire hasn’t fully blocked the exit, you can hear people shouting. If you run, you should be able to get there.

The dizziness makes walking difficult, but you don’t let it stop you.

What stops you is an argument in front of the exit.

“My partner  is still inside! If you don’t go in, I will!” You see Henry struggling with some police officers at the entrance, they are having a hard time holding him back. “If they die because of your incompetence, I swear I will—[NAME]!”

The scream of your name makes you step back, and your fear of dying is replaced by a worse fear.

If you... if you leave through here...

Henry’s shouts get louder now, he’s yelling your name repeatedly.

No... You can’t risk it. Any fate is better than going back to him!

You force your heels to turn and climb the stairs again. You know it’s dangerous, but you refuse to go back to anyone but your husband.

Your remaining courage runs out when the floor collapses in front of you, the wood shakes under your feet. The stairs you came up on are also blocked by the collapse of the upper floor.

You lean against the wall, sliding down until you sit. The lack of air makes it hard to recover your energy.

It’s over for you.

You knew this would happen the moment you left that room, but you still had hope. It won’t be the fire that kills you, but your own selfishness. Many chances appeared, but you wasted them all wanting things your way.

Tears run down your cheeks, you miss your husband. All you wanted was to be home with his company, relaxing together in bed. Because of you, you’ll never be able to do that again.

Oh, Isaac... You wonder if he’s okay. There’s a window near where you are... Is there any chance you can see him?

It’s worth trying, you have nothing to lose now.

But as soon as you try to walk, the floor shakes beneath you. The fire has consumed almost everything around you, it won’t be long before the floor above collapses. You need to be quick.

Gathering your last bit of strength, you ignore the burning pain of your wounds and run to the window. The little fresh air that comes in helps you breathe better, and your vision, once blurry, starts to clear, helping you look for your beloved. But no matter how much you search, you don’t...

The floor collapses beneath you.

You didn’t find him.

...

As expected.

It’s warm.

Your body is pressed against something warm.

You don’t know what it is, your eyes feel too heavy to open.

But it’s okay, you don’t need to know.

You make a small effort to move your arms. They seem to be resting on someone. More specifically, on their shoulders. You shift them to wrap around their neck, nestling closer to the back of their head.

The scent is familiar... It comforts you.

“I’m glad you can move, even if just a little.”

You recognize the voice immediately, but to be sure you’re not imagining things, you force your eyes open. You can only keep them half-open, but it’s enough to see the body carrying you on their back.

“My love...” Your voice is so hoarse it barely sounds like yours. “Where are we going?”

You feel like you have many questions, but they slip away the moment they come to mind. Speaking takes a lot of effort, so you ask the only thing that seems to be on your mind right now.

“We're coming home, dear.”

“Home...” You repeat the word to yourself, it sounds so sweet coming from your husband’s lips. “Heh, I like the sound of that...” A small smile grows on your own lips.

“I know you do.” Isaac smiles along with you. He gently squeezes your bandaged thigh. Even though it hurts, it proves he’s really here with you. “Let’s go home, my beloved.”

You couldn’t be happier to hear those words. He found you.

“You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot. You’re an idiot,” he mutters to himself, wishing, again, for what seems like the thousandth time since term started, that he’d stayed at Garret Medical instead of following whatever midnight whim led him here.

Acendther University. Founded 1886. Small, private liberal arts UN. Bound to make his state-school parents cry, his future med-school admissions tutor shake their head, and his heart beat five times the speed it’s supposed to every time he narrowly avoids a ghost from his past.

This was your idea. Deal with the consequences.

He takes a deep breath in and slowly eases his head out of the room he’s found short solace in. Collin is now nowhere to be seen, lost to the campus of 1,943 people, 6 of which must be avoided, 1 at all cost.

Strangely enough, he’s managed to do a staggeringly good job of steering clear of Avery. He’s seen the rest of them at a distance, even brushed up against Sage, but he hasn’t caught a glimpse of the one person he transferred here because of. Really, that’s not fair, to say he transferred for any clear-cut reason. But Avery comes damn near close.

“Indecisive,” is one word used frequently, when Isaac couldn’t help asking around if people knew Avery. Indecisive. Isaac had nearly laughed until they’d told him Avery had changed his major twice.

“Charter? He always comes to history,” said someone, and Isaac had to keep his eyes from bulging out of his head.

“Bit of a disaster, really,” one girl had said across her breakfast, and at least something is the same. At least something.

Isaac had stopped asking after the first couple weeks, after the realization that Avery is actually here, on campus, caught up to him.

Now, his last class of the day over, he catches a bus to the stop nearest to his off campus-apartment. He was, at least, smart enough to not dorm.

As he walks to his building from the bus stop, it starts to rain, and he draws his hoodie down over his face and scrunches his hands in his pockets. His mind drifts back to the worst decision he’s made in a string of his own bad decisions. Why did he transfer here? Because he missed Avery and the others? Because he was planning to do- what? Charge back into all their lives as if he had never left?

Truthfully, he doesn’t know what he was planning to do. His plan definitely wasn’t to get to the school and then decide he must keep them from knowing he’s there at all costs. But it’s not like he can just… expect everything to be right again.

His building is actually a set of buildings, connected by outdoor hallways, which is nice on a sunny day and absolutely horrendous when it rains. At least it’s not the school, though.

He’s seriously beginning to wonder if it’s too late to transfer again when the door to the apartment he’s walking past flies open and a body barrels into him.

He jumps back instinctively, a doormat catching under his feet. There’s no way for him to not fall, and he lands in a puddle of cold rainwater.

“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry, I-,” says the boy who’s reaching down to help him up, and. Oh no.

Isaac scrambles up before Avery can reach to help him, but it’s far too late. Isaac watches recognition flare in his eyes.

“What- Zac?”

Isaac’s brain chooses this moment to wholly stop functioning.

Avery’s hair is shorter, the bags under his eyes more pronounced. His arm has stopped in midair, and he seems frozen in place. Isaac knows the feeling.

Eventually, what Isaac manages to get out is a shocked, strangled, “What are you doing in my building?”

Avery’s eyes warn to pop out of their sockets. “Your building?”

Isaac looks to the open door behind Avery and back to Avery himself, and oh, the devil laughs.

“Avery! Who’s out there? And close the door, you’re letting the rain in!,” calls a voice from inside the apartment.

Isaac’s mind does a rapid tally in the second it takes for Avery to react to the shout. Avery lives in his building; Avery now knows Isaac lives in the same building; Avery has a girl inside his apartment (Isaac ignores his heart sinking into his stomach); Isaac is in the worst situation he’s ever been in, possibly in his entire life.

What’s another bad decision?

He runs.