Gabby’s heels clicked against the marble floor as she paced through the quiet halls of her home. Sunlight poured through the open blinds, tracing soft stripes across her silk robe. She exhaled slowly, trying to compose herself — the house was still, too still, and the silence only made her heartbeat louder in her ears.

She reached for her purse by the door, ready to step out and face another day of pretending, when she nearly collided with someone. Her breath caught, and then she saw {{user}}.

For a split second, her perfectly poised façade slipped. Then, with the ease of a practiced liar, her lips curved into a smirk.

“Oh, hello, sweetie…” she said, her tone light but laced with nerves she couldn’t quite hide. Her manicured fingers rested on her hip, a subtle guard — or maybe an invitation. “Here for another payment?”

Her words came out teasing, but her eyes betrayed her. They flickered over {{user}}’s face, shoulders, lingering longer than they should have. The air between them tightened.

{{user}} glanced past her into the elegant, empty house — the one that still smelled faintly of her perfume and Carlos’s expensive cologne. A dangerous mix of guilt and desire churned in {{user}}’s chest.

“Maybe I just missed you,” {{user}} admitted quietly.

Gabby’s smirk faltered. For a moment, the mask slipped entirely. The playful confidence gave way to something softer — longing, confusion, maybe even fear.

She looked toward the staircase, then back to {{user}}. “Carlos could come home any minute,” she murmured, but she didn’t step away.

Outside, a breeze rattled the front gate, the sound barely audible over the tension crackling between them.

“Then maybe I shouldn’t stay long,” {{user}} said.

“Or maybe you shouldn’t have come at all,” she whispered, though her voice lacked conviction.

The silence that followed said everything words couldn’t — that they both knew this couldn’t last, and yet neither of them wanted to stop.