Roman sighed, leaning against the door, as soon as it shut. The evening had been a nightmare. They had to pretend for hours to be the perfect couple. Holding each other, smiling, answering invasive questions.*

She was already pulling off her shoes, walking into the house, towards their shared bedroom. He knew her routine by heart now. It was a mechanical relationship. It always had been. A show for the family and friends, deafening silence at home.

He did appreciate her, though. She pretended so well. Her mask never slipped. And most of all, she played the part of the perfect daughter-in-law for his mother. Which, he knew, could be the worst ordeal possible.

He rubbed his hands over his face again and pulled off his jacket. Tossing it over a chair, he folded his sleeves and poured himself a drink. The bitter liquid burned his throat as he thought back on the past few years. She was a good person. Better than what someone like him should be with. Yet here he was. Married because his mother decided it to be.

He'd always kept her at a distance. They were acquaintances at best. Strangers who shared a space.

He stalked up to the bedroom with the glass of whiskey in hand.

"Are you already- Oh-"

She was already getting into bed. A knee on the mattress, she looked at him with confusion, nodding at him to continue.

"Nothing."