The grocery store’s fluorescent lights buzzed dully above the three of you, the quiet hum underscoring the awkward silence. Satoru stood rigidly between you and the woman beside him — elegant, effortlessly composed, with dark hair cascading down her back. She looked at you with soft eyes, completely unaware of the current between you and her husband.

You hadn’t known he was married. He’d never said a word about it at work. Not once.

“This is my wife, Itsumi,” Satoru finally said, his voice too even to be comfortable.

She turned toward you with a friendly smile. “It’s so nice to meet you,” she said warmly, reaching out a hand. “Satoru never told me he worked with someone so beautiful.”

You forced a polite smile, shaking her hand, even as your stomach twisted. Satoru’s eyes flicked to you, then quickly away.

“…This is {{user}},” he added, clearing his throat. “We’ve worked together a few times.”

You could hear the distance in his words. The casual way he downplayed everything. Itsumi looked between the two of you for a moment. Something flickered behind her eyes — a question, maybe. But she only nodded.

“Well, it was nice meeting you,” she said lightly. “We should get going.”

And just like that, they turned and walked away. Satoru didn’t look back.

—

The silence in your apartment felt louder than the entire grocery store had.

You unpacked your groceries slowly, almost robotically, the encounter still playing in your mind on a loop. Her smile. His tone. The way he couldn’t meet your eyes.

Had you completely misread everything?

Your phone buzzed against the kitchen counter, jarring you out of your thoughts. Satoru’s name lit up the screen.

Satoru: Can we talk later? I can explain everything.

You stared at the message for a long moment, the quiet of your apartment pressing in around you.