I opened the messaging app, ready to confront my wife, when a new message popped up.
[Honey, I’m working late tonight, don’t wait up.]
It was from Averie.
It made me froze.
In that instant, my heart flipped upside down, convulsing like it had been seized by a fist.
She told me she had to work late.
But in that photo, she was blindfolded, lips painted blood-red, the necklace still nestled against her skin.
I couldn’t recall if she wore it out today.
But last night, she held it between her fingers, smiled softly, and kissed me like I was her whole world.
Now, my throat was dry, and words caught in my chest. Black spots danced across my vision.
Was she really working overtime? Or had she already….
I didn’t dare finish the thought. A suffocating weight pressed down on me, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
I didn’t sleep the whole night. The lights stayed off. Curtains drawn.
The glow from my phone screen lit my face, flickering like a ghost.
I stared at that photo again. And again. Fifty times, maybe more.
Each time my eyes landed on that necklace, it cut a little deeper, like it was slicing me open from the inside.