It all began with a stain.
Adrian came home late, the faint trace of lipstick smeared at the edge of his collar. Not bright enough to be careless, but not invisible either.
Elena noticed immediately. She didn't shout. She didn't accuse. She only smiled as she helped him out of his jacket, her fingers lingering on the collar just long enough for his heart to stutter.
You should be more careful at work. She said sweetly, folding the jacket over her arm.
"Ink, coffee… little things leave marks."
Adrian froze. For a fraction of a second, panic crossed his face. Then he forced a laugh. Yeah… I guess you're right. I'll choose to be careful next time.
Elena saw the flicker. She stored it away.
The next week, she "accidentally" left a wine glass on the counter. A glass with the faintest trace of lipstick at the rim. The wrong shade. Maya's shade.
She placed it just so, where Adrian would see it when he walked in.
He noticed. His gaze lingered on the glass for too long. He opened his mouth, closed it again. Elena said nothing. She just hummed as she cooked, as if nothing in the world were amiss.
The mirror was beginning to crack.
Maya felt it too. She found her scarf one morning draped over the back of the sofa in Adrian and Elena's living room.
The scarf she was certain she had left in her own room. Elena folded it neatly, handed it to her with that same unnerving smile.
You really should keep track of your things, Maya. Scattered belongings can make people, you know , suspicious.
Maya nearly dropped the scarf. Her lips parted, but no words came.
Elena leaned in, her voice silk and venom.
"I guess maybe you like leaving traces. Maybe you want to be found."
Maya's face burned. She stammered, but Elena had already turned away, humming as if the world was perfectly in order.
Adrian and Maya began to unravel in private. Their stolen moments grew frantic, tinged with fear instead of passion. Each kiss felt like it carried Elena's gaze on their skin. Each touch was shadowed by the dread of being exposed.
One evening, Adrian tried to reassure Maya.
"She doesn't know. She can't know. All she can do… is pressure. To let words out of your mouth and boom! hold as evidence. Even If she did, she would've ….."
Would've what? Maya snapped, her voice breaking.
She would've screamed? Thrown us out?
Or maybe she's smarter than that, Adrian. Maybe she does know, and she's just… waiting to bang.
Her words echoed like a curse.
The house no longer felt like home. It was a trap. Every misplaced object, every unfamiliar scent, every lingering trace was a blade Elena placed deliberately, slicing away at their nerves.
At dinner one night, Elena broke the silence. She set down her glass of water, her eyes steady on Adrian.
Hey you lover, "You've been so distant lately, Adrian."
Adrian shifted in his chair. "Well as you already know, work's been heavy this time"
Mm! Her lips curved into a smile.
And Maya, dear… you've been quiet too. Is everything alright?
Maya's fork clattered against her plate. She forced a nod, her hands trembling. Yes, I'm all fine.
Elena's gaze lingered on her for a moment too long, then drifted back to Adrian. Good, good. I'd hate to think either of you were keeping something from me.
The words slid into the air like a knife into flesh.
The mirror was no longer just cracked. It was splintering.
That night, Adrian lay awake, staring at the ceiling. For the first time, doubt gnawed at him.
Elena's calmness wasn't ignorance, it was control, gradually taking in. She wasn't blind. She was waiting to strike. Obviously at the right time.
Beside him, Elena slept with perfect stillness, her breathing soft and even. But even in the quiet, Adrian could feel it, the truth pressing closer, the glass of their fragile lies ready to shatter.
And when it did, none of them would be spared from the shards.