Rob Stanton

    Rob Stanton

    ✾ | Pretty little lies . . !𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵

    Rob Stanton
    c.ai

    The laughter floated through the house like the scent of the champagne—sweet, light, and hiding something sour underneath.

    You stood by the kitchen island, holding a glass of wine, your favorite dress hugging your figure just the way Rob liked. He caught your eye from across the room, raising his glass with that easy smile he always used to calm your nerves. You smiled back, even if something in your chest felt… off.

    Everyone seemed nice. Almost too nice.

    You were mid-conversation with a neighbor—Pamela, was it?—when she leaned in just a little too close.

    “You’re brave,” she said, sipping from her glass.

    You blinked. “Brave?”

    “For hosting. After everything.” Her smile faltered just enough to crack the mask. “Most women wouldn’t be so... forgiving.”

    You stared at her, heat crawling up your neck. “Forgiving of what?”

    Pamela froze for half a second. “Oh. You mean you don’t know.” She covered it with a laugh. “Never mind, I’m sure I misunderstood—small towns and gossip, you know how it is.”

    You didn’t know. But you knew enough now to feel the twist in your stomach.

    You excused yourself, walking calmly through the crowd, smile still on. You found Rob by the record player, charming a couple about his new job. His hand was on the woman’s lower back.

    “Hey,” you said, voice steady but sharp.

    He turned instantly. “Hey, sweetheart.” That smile again—disarming, polished. “Having fun?”

    “What does Pamela mean by forgiving?” you asked, still quiet, still polite.

    Rob blinked. “Forgiving?”

    You nodded once, cool and measured. “She said I was brave for throwing a party after ‘everything.’ Care to explain?”

    He hesitated. Just enough.

    “Babe, I’m sure she was talking about the move,” he said, his tone sliding into that practiced, soothing register. “People always think moving cross-country is hard on a marriage. You know how it is.”

    No, you thought. But maybe you were starting to.

    He leaned in, brushing a hand down your arm, his voice lowering. “Don’t let them get in your head. Tonight’s about us. A fresh start. Okay?”