She froze just inside the doorway, one hand still on the handle. The living room glowed softly—warm, domestic—like someone had been home for hours. Her heart stumbled, relief first. Sharp. Foolish.
"Shilem?" she called again.
No answer.
She stepped inside slowly, wheeling her suitcase behind her. A faint floral note lingered in the air, layered over the scent of freshly cooked food.
Someone had cooked.
Weird. Shilem couldn't cook to save his life.
Then she heard it—before she saw anything.
A laugh drifted from the bedroom.
A woman's laugh.
And then sounds.
Her feet moved before her mind caught up.
The bedroom door was half-open.
She saw the bed first. The rumpled sheets.
Then she saw them.
The suitcase slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud she barely registered.
Shilem looked up.
The color drained from his face.
"Jennifer—"
That was it. That was all he said. Her name, spoken like a mistake.
The woman turned, confusion flickering across her features.
"Oh." She smiled lightly. "You didn't tell me your wife was coming today."
Wife.
Shilem stood abruptly. "This isn't what it looks like."
Jennifer looked at him then. Really looked.
He couldn't meet her eyes.
"What's going on?" she asked stupidly.
Silence.
Jennifer bent down, picked up her suitcase, and walked out of the room.
Behind her, Shilem followed, frantic. "Jennifer, please. We can talk about this. You don't have to leave."
She kept walking. She couldn't even look back—and it wasn't because he was butt naked.
It was only when the cold night air hit her on the street that her brain jolted awake.
What do I do now?
She was in a new city. It was past ten. She was alone. She had nowhere to go.
Wait.
Hang on.
That was her apartment.
Her dad had paid the deposit.
The lease was in her name.
Jennifer turned on her heel and marched back toward what was supposed to be her dream apartment.
Shilem was dressed now, holding his lady friend's handbag while she struggled into her impossibly high heels by the door.
"I knew you'd come back," Shilem said, relief flooding his face.
"Get out," Jennifer said.
"I was already leaving," the woman said quickly.
"You too," Jennifer said, pointing at Shilem.
"But—" he started.
"GET OUT!"
She grabbed Shilem and shoved him bodily through the door, slamming it shut behind him.
Jennifer locked the door as Shilem pounded on it.
Oh. She'd left her luggage outside.
But then again—if she could throw out her newlywed husband, why should losing a luggage bag matter?