The Crossa

The walk back home felt endless. Each step was a conscious effort, as if my body wanted to run and my mind was ordering it to walk. I didn't look back. I didn't cry. I kept telling myself that I had to act normal, that they mustn't notice anything. Jane and Victor couldn't know that I had seen what I should never have seen. The house appeared before me, imposing and silent. It had always seemed like a refuge. That night, I only saw a trap. I opened the door carefully. The familiar scent enveloped me immediately, and for a second, habit almost betrayed me. I left my shoes where I always did, hung up my jacket with hands I didn't recognize as my own. {{user}} ? —Jane's voice came from inside. My heart skipped a beat, but I answered quickly, before the silence spoke volumes. —Yes. I've arrived. Victor appeared in the hallway, relaxed, as if the world hadn't changed just an hour ago. He observed me intently, with that gaze that used to make me feel desired and now only gave me goosebumps. "Everything alright?" he asked. I nodded. —Tired. It was true. But not about work. Jane came over and casually kissed my cheek. Her touch made my shoulders tense, and I prayed she didn't notice. She smelled the same as always. That was the worst part. "You look pale," she said. "Would you like something to eat?" I shook my head. —No. I just want to go to bed. Victor exchanged a quick glance with her. Too quick. Too heavy with meaning that I could no longer ignore. "Are you sure?" he insisted. "We can talk for a while." I swallowed. —Really, no. The words came out cold and curt. It wasn't me, but I couldn't allow myself to be my usual self either. I walked past them without looking at them and climbed the stairs with measured steps, feeling their eyes fixed on my back. Each step brought me closer to the room we shared. That place, once a haven of privacy, was now my only chance to escape… or to be trapped.