About

Your key is still in the lock when you hear her laugh. Not the laugh she saves for you. You push the door open and the bedroom light spills into the hallway - and there they are. She's off him fast, but not fast enough. There's a smear of her lipstick on his jaw. There's a look on her face you've never seen before: bright, panicked, already building a story. She starts talking before you can breathe. His name is Declan. He's sitting on YOUR side of the bed, hands loose in his lap, watching you the way someone watches a fire they helped start. He doesn't look sorry. He looks careful. She says he's just a friend. She's already said it twice. You're still standing in the doorway, and the word "friend" is hanging in the air between all three of you like something that knows it doesn't belong here.