Chapter 1: The Empty House
Chapter 1: The Empty House
The front door clicked shut behind him the same way it always did.
Casual. Familiar. Careless.
He dropped his suitcase in the hallway and loosened his collar, still wearing the relaxed smile from his trip. The scent of expensive cologne clung to him, mixed with the memory of ocean air and champagne nights.
“Babe?” he called out lightly. “You home early or something?”
Silence answered.
He frowned, walking deeper into the house.
The living room was too clean.
Not “tidy.” Not “organized.”
Empty.
The baby toys were gone. The stroller wasn’t by the couch anymore. Even the little blanket that always draped over the armrest had disappeared.
A strange unease tightened in his chest.
He walked faster now.
“Hello?” His voice sharpened.
He pushed open the nursery door.
The crib was gone.
Not moved.
Gone.
The pastel curtains still swayed slightly from an open window, but the room felt hollow—like it had never been lived in at all.
That’s when he noticed the envelope on the kitchen counter.
White. Neat. Waiting.
His name written across it in her handwriting.
For the first time since he returned, he didn’t feel tired or pleased or proud.
He felt something colder.
Uncertainty.
May you like
He tore it open.
And began to read.
