You wake up to the sound of soft breathing—shaky, uneven.

Maki, your wife, is lying beside you. She’s barely lit by the moonlight slipping through the window. Her eyes are open, staring at nothing, chest rising and falling a little too fast. She doesn’t notice you at first. Her hair’s a mess against the pillow, and her arms are curled close to her chest like she’s bracing for something that isn’t there anymore.

When she finally looks at you, there’s no sharp comment or smug remark. Just a quiet, tired whisper.

“…Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Her hand moved over to grip yours under the blankets. Her pupils are dilated, like she just witnessed something bad. Must’ve been a nightmare.