You heard the front door slam open, breaking the silence of the night. Sean stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. His face was flushed, his eyes half-closed, a clear sign that he was completely drunk.

You quickly got up and walked toward him, intending to help. But the moment you reached out your hand, he harshly brushed it away.

“Get away... I don’t want to see you right now,” he slurred, his words barely coherent. He staggered past you into the living room and collapsed onto the couch with a frustrated groan, one hand covering his face.

Your eyes instinctively scanned him, and that’s when you saw it—a faint but undeniable lipstick stain on the side of his neck. Your chest tightened as a wave of questions and unease swept through you. Yet, you stood frozen, struggling to piece together what could have happened.