The last-minute flight he had booked was delayed, and the stopover in Denver only made him more drained. He hadn’t told anyone he would return on Friday, 2 days ahead of schedule. He wanted to surprise Clare.
The seminar had wrapped up earlier than expected, and deep inside, he simply wanted to see her again. He felt a growing distance between them and hoped the gesture might fix it.
Despite the fatigue, he drove straight from the airport to their house, a faint smile forming as he imagined the look on her face when she opened the door.
But as he parked in front of the house, something felt off. Everything was dark.
Completely silent.
Up until that moment, she could have been asleep. But the second he stepped out of the car, he sensed something wasn’t right. The garage door was open, and Clare’s car was gone.
His chest tightened.
He tried to reason it away. Maybe she was at the pharmacy or visiting a friend.
He entered without turning on any lights. He walked down the hallway and stopped, surrounded by dim shadows.
The silence was so deep that each step echoed loudly.
That was when he pulled out his phone and made the call.
Clare picked up on the 2nd ring, her voice slow, as if she had just woken up.
“Hello.”
“Hey, love. Did I wake you?”
She inhaled deeply, forcing her tone to sound normal.
“I was asleep, yes. I’m barely keeping my eyes open.”
Jack remained quiet for 2 seconds, steadying his breath.
“Are you home?”
Clare didn’t hesitate.
“Of course I am, Jack.
Where else would I be this late?”
He walked into their bedroom without answering right away. He looked at the dark room, fully aware she wasn’t there.
“All right,” he said calmly. “I just wanted to hear your voice.
I’m heading to sleep. I’ll be back Sunday.”
“Oh, okay. I love you.
Sleep well.”
“Good night, Clare.”
Every word echoed in his mind. She was lying, completely unaware that he was standing in their bedroom while she claimed to be in bed.
The realization hit him hard, like the ground had disappeared beneath him. It was no longer suspicion.
No longer instinct. It was a lie—clear, direct, effortless.
Jack exhaled slowly, slipped his phone away, and sat on the edge of the stairs. He rubbed his face, trying to recall the last time Clare had been truly honest with him.
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