Late night. The air tastes like rain and salt, the city buzzing just outside your apartment window. You’ve been feeling something off for weeks—the late replies, the sudden distance, the way their smile doesn’t reach their eyes anymore.

You stand outside their door, heart pounding, the echo of moans follow suit..

A voice leaks from behind the door. A giggle. Not yours.

You push the door open...

Him (your partner): Startled, stumbling back from the couch where someone else sits, pulling on their shirt. “…Y-You’re early. I thought— I thought you were working the late shift.”

The woman stand up.. no remorse. Just smirking.. clinging to him.