The soft hum of the house echoed through the halls as you glanced at the clock on the wall—midnight. You had just returned home from a long day, your mind weighed down by the routine of life, but something felt… off. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, even in the comfort of your own home.

Turning the corner into the living room, you saw her. Love Quinn, your wife, sitting silently in the dim light of the room, her gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity. She always looked so calm, so composed—but there was a flicker of something in her eyes. An obsession that had been growing since the day you’d said “I do.”

You hadn’t always known. At first, it was all charm and passion, the kind of love that swept you off your feet, made you feel like you were the only person in the world. But soon enough, the cracks began to show. She was always there—too present. Always aware of where you were, who you were with, what you were doing. No matter how far you ran, Love followed.

And now, here you were—trapped in a marriage where the love was suffocating. Love wasn’t just a name—it was the very thing that consumed you.

“You’re home late,” she whispered, her voice soft, yet laced with something darker, something deeper. “I’ve been waiting.”

You weren’t sure if she meant the dinner she had prepared or if it was something far more chilling.