I crossed my arms.
Not defensively.
Just… firmly.
“Next time,” I said calmly, “I won’t use anything in your coffee.”
He raised an eyebrow slightly.
“No?”
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I met his gaze.
“No.”
A small pause.
“I’ll just have your suitcases ready.”
That landed.
Hard.
He looked down.
And for the first time in a long time…
He had nothing to say.
No clever words.
No “synergy.”
No excuses.
Just silence.
And in that silence, something became clear.
Revenge doesn’t always have to be loud.
It doesn’t have to destroy everything.
Sometimes…
It just has to remind someone.
Of what they’re risking.
Of what they’re losing.
And of the moment they forgot…
That love isn’t maintained with words—
but with presence.
“The Smell of Something Wrong” — Part 2
The next morning was… quiet.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that feels like something is waiting to be said—but neither person knows how to begin.
I woke up before him.
That hadn’t happened in a long time.
Usually, he was already gone by the time I opened my eyes—leaving behind nothing but the faint smell of coffee and whatever cologne he had chosen for the day.
But this time, he was still there.
Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.
Awake.
I watched him for a moment from the doorway.
He didn’t turn toward me.
Didn’t reach for me.
Didn’t pretend everything was normal.
Good.
I didn’t want normal.
“You’re up early,” I said finally, walking into the room.
He nodded slightly.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
I leaned against the dresser, folding my arms.
“Your meeting must’ve been exhausting.”
There was no bite in my voice.
That seemed to bother him more.
“It wasn’t what you think,” he said.
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was predictable.
“Then tell me what it was,” I replied.
He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair.
“I messed up,” he said.
Simple.
Direct.
Late.
I tilted my head.
“That’s one way to put it.”
He looked at me then—really looked at me.
And for the first time in months, I saw something unfamiliar in his expression.
Not confidence.
Not distraction.
Not annoyance.
Fear.
“It didn’t go as far as you think,” he said quickly. “I swear.”
There it was.
The classic defense.
Not I didn’t do it.
Just not as much as you think.
I let the silence stretch.
“You mean you didn’t sleep with her yet,” I said calmly.
His jaw tightened.
“I stopped it,” he insisted.
“When?” I asked.
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