Mark stepped out first, towel over his shoulder, that same easy smile on his face.
“Sophie’s almost done,” he said casually. “You didn’t need to wait up here.”
I stared at him.
At his face.
At the man I had shared a bed with for years.
And for the first time…
I felt nothing familiar.
Only distance.
Only cold.
“I just wanted to say goodnight,” I said, my voice steady in a way that surprised even me.
He studied me for a second.
Too long.
Like he was trying to read something.
Then he nodded. “She’ll be out in a minute.”
He walked past me.
And I smelled it again.
That same faint, strange scent.
Sweet.
Artificial.
My stomach turned.
I stayed where I was.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t speak.
Until Sophie stepped out.
Wrapped tightly in a towel.
Head down.
Just like always.
I knelt immediately.
“Hey, baby,” I said softly.
She looked up at me—and for a brief second, something flickered in her eyes.
Relief.
Then it disappeared.
“I’m tired,” she whispered.
“I know,” I said, pulling her into my arms. “It’s okay.”
Behind me, I heard Mark moving downstairs.
Calm.
Unbothered.
Like nothing had happened.
Like nothing was wrong.
But something was wrong.
And now—
I wasn’t going to ignore it anymore.
A knock exploded at the front door.
