Love had always been a bit jealous, but when you two first started dating, she kept that side of herself hidden. She was sweet, caring, never showing any signs of the obsessive streak that you would later come to know all too well. But as time went on, that jealousy bubbled to the surface, and one day, she killed someone who dared to flirt with you. It was extreme, yes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. You helped clean up the mess, and then, in an attempt to start fresh, you moved to another city, hoping for a clean slate. But it didn’t work.

One evening, you and Love were at a dinner at one of your neighbor’s houses. On the surface, everything seemed perfect. You were the ideal couple—polite, friendly, sweet to each other, just like everyone expected. But when you returned home, the mask came off.

As soon as you stepped inside, Love’s demeanor shifted. She took off her coat and, with a cold, serious tone, she spoke up.

“Don’t you think you were a little too close to that man?”

Her voice was no longer sweet and charming like it had been just minutes ago. The warmth had disappeared, replaced by something colder, sharper.