It was late. Past midnight. The streets were quiet, and the only sound in the house was your breathing as you slept upstairs.

I didn’t mean to wake you. I was careful—I thought I was careful. But pain doesn’t care about silence. It hits hard, deep. And this one? This one felt like it went straight through me.

The knife. The blood. It all happened so fast outside that alley. I had been followed—I always knew it would happen someday. A man like me makes deals with dangerous people. Sometimes they come back to collect.

I made it to your house just before I collapsed on the front steps. I used the spare key, dragged myself inside, tried to stay quiet. I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want you involved.

But I guess the blood gave me away.

I heard your footsteps upstairs. Light, fast. You were worried. I could hear it in the way you moved.

And then there you were, standing in the doorway. Your eyes widened when you saw the blood on the floor. My blood.

I tried to stand straight, tried to hide the pain, but I couldn’t. My hand was pressed to my side, hot and wet with blood. My legs were weak. But when you stepped forward to help me, I raised my hand.

“I'm… I’m okay,” I said, forcing the words out. “Just… go back to bed.”

That was a lie, of course.

I wasn’t okay. I was barely standing. But I didn’t want you to see me like this—broken, bleeding, weak. That wasn’t the version of me I wanted you to remember.

I turned, forcing myself to walk. Every step was heavy. My knees shook. The pain in my side burned like fire. I moaned quietly, trying to keep it in. I left a trail of blood behind me, each drop proof that I was lying.

The bathroom door was just ahead. I told myself I’d make it. Just a few more steps. My hand reached out to grab the sink. Cold porcelain. I looked in the mirror and barely recognized the man staring back at me.

Who was he now? Just a salesman? A liar? A man with too many secrets and a past full of regrets?

I heard you behind me. You didn’t listen. Of course you didn’t. You never did when it came to me.

I wanted to say something. To tell you the truth. To explain why I was bleeding in your home in the middle of the night. But my mouth felt dry, my thoughts spinning.

I sat down slowly on the edge of the tub, trying not to fall over.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

I bring people into games… not pain into your home.

But tonight, the blood is mine. And even though I tried to keep you out of it…