The rain started again that evening, heavy and relentless.I left the office later than usual, not because I was busy, but because I didn't want to go home.
The streets glistened under the streetlights. Puddles reflected cars rushing past.I stood outside the gate of our apartment building for a long time, letting the rain soak through my jacket.
A man with an umbrella slowed down near me. "You okay, brother?" he asked.
"Yeah," I said with a half-smile, "just… enjoying the rain."
He nodded and moved on.But that small exchange stayed with me.To a stranger, I was just another guy standing in the rain.To myself, I was a man standing at the edge of a life that no longer felt like his.
When I finally went inside, I found her asleep on the couch, the TV still flickering quietly.For a moment, I stood there, watching her face in the bluish light.Peaceful. Innocent.
I thought: If someone walked in right now, they'd think she's the perfect wife waiting for her husband.They wouldn't know what I knew.They wouldn't see the cracks behind the picture.
I turned off the TV, covered her with a blanket, and went to the balcony.The rain kept falling, soft but endless.
I lit a cigarette I hadn't touched in years and whispered to myself,"This isn't home anymore. I'm just a stranger passing through."