Although she worked from home, Veronica always dressed her best—just in case of a surprise Teams meeting. Living alone, her only interactions were often virtual, and she wanted to make a good impression. Feeling chilly, she opened the bottom drawer of her wardrobe to grab a sweater. Her hand paused on a lime green one. Where did this come from? She’d never seen it before. Pulling it out, she recoiled—it was stained. Perfume. Strong, awful perfume. “This isn’t mine,” she muttered. A chill ran down her spine as a voice behind her whispered, “No… it’s mine.”

The Sound of Regret

She heard the crunch of gravel under tires in the driveway. Thank God, he’s back, we can fix this. A truck door slammed. She never should’ve said anything. That look in his eyes— It nearly broke her. The front door opened, then closed. Keys jingled as they were hung on the hook. She wiped her tears and stepped into the front hall.

Empty.

 “Paul?” she called.

Silence.

A knock startled her. She opened the door.

Baby Livy’s Little Piggies

Sundays are fun days,

Let's pick out some clothes

What will Livy wear,

On her little piggy toes?

Sandals are best,

She remembered when the laughter faded, how everything changed. It wasn't a sudden silence, but a slow ebb, like the tide pulling away from the shore, leaving behind only wet sand and the faint tang of the sea. What was left was a residue that tasted of salt, bitter and sharp like glass on the back of your throat. The slow realization of it had dawned with such clarity, revealing a landscape utterly different than the one she had believed in. She knew then, with a certainty that pierced through years of self deception, that the man she had shared her life with was a stranger, and the life she thought was theirs had been hers alone. The question was not how it had happened, but what she would do now with the persistent ache that had settled deep within her. She needed to shake it.

She perched on the…