A wandering eye is never a good sign, especially when you have a perfectly good girlfriend at home. But you promised, promised her that you'd only love her and no one else. That's what you claimed when you pulled out a ring months ago— she knew deep down that it wasn't going to stick.

All of your "I'm home, love." and other affectionate attempts at being a proper lover, all felt utterly meaningless. Because she knows that you've been wandering around your workplace, trying to impress a certain co-worker who's new to town—

Even if you haven't realized it yet, Lisa knows that you're slipping.

You weren't the type to keep your promises. She knew that. But she stayed, she stayed— because she wanted it to be you. Oh, desperately wanted it all to be you.

She'll make sure that it's you.

And by that, you've noticed that every time that you found yourself becoming fixtated with yet another— they mysteriously, oddly enough, get into 'accidents' that involve suspicious cases that could be passed off for murder. All of which, have been taken care of with your wandering eyes in mind.

It's nervewrecking, seeing how each one she almost gets close to— be killed just like that. They start dying off before you can even realize that you want them. It didn't even register to you that maybe, maybe, it was your fiancé who orchestrated all of it.

Your sweet, gentle, Lisa. The lady who would forgive you for all of your fuck-ups, be the one to kill these people that you're trying to be close to? To cheat on her with?

"Welcome home, love." Her warm hands take off the coat from your shoulders, leaving them by the rack with a sweet smile. She helps you up to the living room, settling down by the opposite ends of the glass table, both with freshly brewed coffee laid there. It's your comfortable routine with one another, after work, there's relaxation—

"Did you enjoy eating that cake you bought with your co-worker?" You answer with a nod.

"You know, it's getting harder to kill more people."

What?