A MADMAN'S OBSESSION

Marceline hummed softly as she ironed Rafael’s crisp white work shirt. Morning light spilled through the kitchen window, warming the counters and catching the steam curling off the fabric. Three years married, and mornings like this still felt like little sanctuaries.Rafael came up behind her, wrapping his arms gently around her waist. “You’re humming. What’s got you so happy this morning, sweetheart?” His voice was soft, carrying that effortless warmth that always made her heart flutter.Marcie leaned back into him as a smile spread across her lips. “Good morning. How was your sleep?”He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. His stubble grazed her skin just enough to make her shiver, before moving toward the dining table where breakfast was laid out. “It was good,” he said, settling into his chair. “You took excellent care of me last night.”Marcie chuckled, playful. “Well, of course. How could I let my husband sleep while he comes home drunk from a night with his friends? Someone had

“I… shouldn’t be here.”The words felt distant, as though someone else had spoken them.Before Rafael could move, before the woman could say anything, Marcie’s body reacted on instinct alone. She turned sharply, almost stumbling as she backed away from the doorway. Her heart hammered so violently in her chest that it made her dizzy.The receptionist, startled by her sudden movement, blinked in confusion as Marcie rushed past.“Ma’am? Mrs. Gray...what’s wrong?”Marcie didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her throat was too tight while her lungs were refusing to draw in enough air. Her hands trembled around the box of cookies, the ribbon cutting into her fingers as if it were mocking her.She had come here to apologize.To smooth over something small.To bring sweetness into his day.How stupid.How unbearably stupid.The hallway blurred as she walked faster, almost running. Her heels clicked too loudly against the carpet. Behind her, she could hear the receptionist’s hurried footsteps, and the

Night had fallen when Marceline finally found herself alone in the bathroom. The house around her was quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside. She shut the door and leaned against it for support. Everything that had happened pressed on her like a physical force. When she stepped toward the mirror, she almost wished she hadn’t.Her reflection stopped her cold. Bruises had begun to bloom along her cheek and jaw, dark purple and angry, throbbing painfully with every pulse of her blood. Her lips were split and bleeding, a streak of crimson that had dried at the corner of her mouth. Her hands trembled as she lifted one to touch them, and the sting made her flinch, forcing a harsh intake of breath.Blood and pain. Shame and disbelief.She stared at herself, at the woman who had spent the past three years pouring everything into a marriage she had thought was built on love. The same woman who had cooked, cleaned, smiled, and waited faithfully for the man she trusted. And now… the

“I have an urgent matter to attend to,” Rafael informed Marceline, already reaching for his wallet. He pulled out a neat stack of bills and pressed it into her hand with care. “This should be enough for the groceries.”His thumb lingered just a second too long against her palm.“I want to have dinner with you tonight,” he continued lightly, as if this were an ordinary day, as if nothing had fractured between them. “So get dressed. I’ll come pick you up, hm? Don't do anything stupid. You know what I can do.”Before she could respond, before she could even think, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Then he turned and left, already moving on to what he called work matters.Marceline stood there long after the door closed.She knew where he was going.The image came unbidden. She could see that woman, the child, the life he had hidden so easily. Her fingers curled slowly yet she said nothing.She only exhaled and stared at the money in her hand as if it weighed far more than it

By the time Marceline reached the house, the plastic bags had left red marks on her fingers.The gate creaked as she pushed it open. She stepped inside the house and closed the door slowly, just long enough to catch her breath.She set the groceries on the counter and began putting things away. Her hands moved on autopilot, arranging cans and boxes while her mind drifted elsewhere, numb and quiet.She should have felt her own exhaustion.Every muscle ached. Her shoulders pulled tight while her head throbbed faintly.And yet.Her thoughts refused to stay put.They kept drifting back to the alley.To the man she met.The man’s face surfaced unbidden. Those sharp lines, the calm eyes, the cigarette between his fingers as if pain were an inconvenience rather than a threat. The way he had looked at her, not startled by her presence, but… curious. Her hands paused mid-motion, fingers resting against the counter.'Was he alright?'The question slipped in her head.Had he gone to a doctor? D