The cruelest thing? She smiled at me that night like nothing had shifted. She said "Welcome home" in that same sing-song tone. I wanted to scream.
How do you stand in the same room with someone you've seen betray you? It's like sharing air with a ghost that still insists it's alive.
She asked about my day, touched my arm. Normal. Too normal. That smile was a blade wrapped in silk. I looked at her, nodded, answered in one-word grunts. She didn't notice. Or maybe she did and played dumb.
Inside, I wanted to sneer. "You liar. You cheat. How can you look me in the eyes and still wear that face?" But I swallowed it. I smiled back, practiced, fake. Because the more normal she thinks life is, the harder the crash will hit.
I slept beside her that night, both of us staring at the same ceiling. I imagined her thoughts drifting to him. My fists clenched under the blanket. Sleep didn't come. The house smelled like betrayal even when clean.