LOGINMorning came in slowly, the light slipping through the curtains in thin, quiet lines that stretched across the bed and settled against Matthew’s face. Ava stirred first. The habit had long settled into her bones—waking before him, easing into the day without noise, without disruption. But this time, something felt… off. He hadn’t moved. She turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on him. His arm lay heavy across the sheet, his breathing steady but deeper than usual, like he had sunk too far into sleep. “Matthew…” Her voice came soft, careful not to startle. No response. She shifted closer, her hand lifting to touch his shoulder, fingers pressing lightly. “Matthew,” she said again, a little firmer this time. He stirred then, a faint groan slipping past his lips as his brows pulled together. “Hm?” Ava watched his face as his eyes blinked open, slow, unfocused at first, then settling on her. “You’re still sleeping,” she said quietly. “Aren’t you going to work?” He exhale
Matthew didn’t move immediately. The word he had shouted still seemed to hang somewhere between him and the silence that followed, echoing faintly in the back of his head. On the other end, Sophie didn’t rush to fill it. When he finally spoke again, his voice had dropped—lower, tighter, like he was forcing each word through something thick. “Spending every weekend with you is not possible.” A faint shift came through the line. Fabric, maybe. Or the sound of her adjusting her position, settling in deeper. “Is that so?” “Yes,” he said, sharper now. “Where exactly am I supposed to tell Ava I’m going every weekend?” Silence stretched. “And fifty thousand dollars every week?” he continued, pacing now, each step measured but restless. “That’s outrageous, Sophie. Where do you expect me to get that kind of money from?” A soft exhale came from her end. Unbothered. “That’s not my business.” Matthew stopped mid-step, his grip tightening around the phone. “What do you mean it’s not
The door had barely stopped vibrating on its hinges when the quiet settled in. It didn’t feel like silence. It felt like something had been ripped open and left there—raw, exposed, humming faintly beneath everything. Matthew stayed where he was for a moment, his palm still pressed against the table, fingers spread like he needed the resistance. The sting from the impact lingered, dull and grounding. Across the room, the space Isabella had occupied felt… disturbed. Like the air hadn’t decided what to do with itself yet. He dragged in a breath and held it. He let it out slowly. Then he moved. The chair scraped faintly as he pulled it back, but he didn’t sit. His hand reached for his phone instead, almost instinctively, as his body had already decided what came next before his mind caught up. Sophie. She glowed on the screen. He stared at it longer than necessary. Jaw tight. Thumb hovering. Then he pressed a call. The ringing started. Each tone stretched a little longer than it
Sophie stepped in like she had been waiting for that exact moment.Her hands came together in a slow, deliberate clap.The sound echoed, sharp against the walls, cutting through whatever fragile thread had been holding the air together.A laugh followed, loud, unrestrained, the kind that didn’t ask for permission to exist.“Wow,” she said, dragging the word out as her gaze swept across them. “This is… far from amazing.”Matthew’s body went rigid.The warmth that had lingered between him and Isabella thinned, replaced by something colder, heavier. His hand dropped from where it had hovered uncertainly, his fingers curling slightly at his side.Isabella didn’t step back.She turned slowly, her attention settling on Sophie with a calm that felt almost deliberate.“What are you doing here?” Isabella asked.Her voice came out smooth, controlled, as though the interruption had been expected all along.Sophie tilted her head, her smile still in place, though it had sharpened at the edges.“I
Matthew had been staring at the same page for longer than he cared to admit.Numbers blurred into each other, columns stretching into meaninglessness, the faint hum of the air conditioner filling the spaces where his focus should have been. His pen rested between his fingers, unmoving, its tip hovering just above the margin of the document.The knock didn’t come, but the door simply opened.He looked up. Surprise registered before he could smooth it over.“Isabella?”She stepped in as though she owned the space—or perhaps as though she had never stopped owning parts of it. The door clicked shut behind her, soft, controlled. Her heels barely made a sound against the polished floor as she walked further in.“You didn’t call,” he added, straightening slightly in his chair.Isabella’s lips curved faintly, not quite a smile.“Would you have picked?”Matthew held her gaze for a second, then leaned back, placing the pen down with deliberate care.“What are you doing here?"She tilted her hea
Sophie blinked once, as if she hadn’t quite heard her correctly. The silence between them stretched, thin and brittle, before it snapped. “Your mother-in-law just insulted your sister,” she said, her voice rising a notch, sharp enough to cut through the quiet hum of the television. “And you couldn’t say anything?” Ava didn’t shift. She didn’t rush to fill the space. Her fingers moved slowly over the fabric of her dress again, smoothing a crease that wasn’t there, her gaze steady on Sophie’s face. “She didn’t insult you,” Ava said after a moment, her tone even, almost gentle. “She corrected you.” Sophie let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “Corrected me?” Ava tilted her head slightly. “Why were you asking him where he went?” The question landed softly, but it stayed there. Sophie’s smile faltered at the edges, just enough to notice if someone was paying attention. “And I’m doing that because of who?” she shot back. Ava’s brows drew together just a fraction. “Doing what, e
The bedroom smells faintly of his cologne.It lingers in the fabric of the curtains, in the collar of the shirts she hasn’t moved yet. Ava stands in the middle of the room with a pile of folded laundry in her arms, not sure how long she’s been standing there.The house is quiet. Sophie went to bed
Matthew said nothing. But the surprise in his eyes lingered. It wasn’t outrage. It wasn’t anger. It was something quieter. Something unsettled. Like she’d shifted a piece on a board he hadn’t realized they were playing on. Ava didn’t mind. She let him look. Let him wonder. He lowered his gaze t
The television is too loud, or maybe the house is just too quiet around it.Sophie sits cross-legged on the rug, half-watching some cooking show, half-scrolling through her own thoughts. The laugh track rises and falls in the background, artificial and bright.Ava is curled into the corner of the c
The study door is half-closed.Ava stands outside it anyway, one hand resting against the frame. She can hear him inside. Papers shifting. The low murmur of his voice on the phone. Controlled. Professional. Calm in a way he hasn’t been with her in weeks.“Yes,” he says. “I’ll take care of it.”“No.







