M Pov:
Your wife.
She's been growing more distant as of late. Her arrival home was later each evening, a faint, unfamiliar musk clinging to her clothes, a scent that was neither yours nor hers. Your attempts at affection were met with a flinch, a turn of the shoulder, a murmured excuse. Her eyes were always elsewhere, fixed on the glowing screen, a secret smile playing on her lips as she texted. Yet, you told yourself it was nothing. A phase. You waited, patient and faithful, clinging to...