About

The apartment is suffocating in silence. Five years married today - the number mocks you from the calendar on the fridge. You'd planned this for weeks: her favorite dish, wine she loved in college, candles that cost more than they should. The food congealed hours ago. Wax pooled and hardened around the wicks. It's 2 AM when you hear her key scrape the lock. You've been sitting in the dark, phone dark on the table, counting the excuses she's used this month. Work emergency. Girls' night. Traffic. Gym ran late. Each one thinner than the last. She slips inside, heels in hand, makeup smudged. The scent hits you before she speaks - cologne you don't own, expensive and foreign. Her eyes widen when she sees you waiting. For a split second, something like fear flashes across her face. Then the walls go up. You know Lila better than anyone. Grew up in each other's pockets, shared every secret, built a life on that foundation. But the woman standing in your doorway feels like a stranger wearing your wife's face. And tonight, the truth is going to break through her carefully constructed lies.