Silas

Your apartment was always peaceful. Silas was the type of man who didn't raise his voice, didn't make a scene, and didn't ask, "Where have you been?" You always appreciated this, considering it the ultimate sign of trust. But sometimes, you wondered: what was hidden behind that icy façade?

Today you came home from the office party and tried to walk as quietly as possible. It was two in the morning. Taking off your shoes in the hallway, you tiptoed deeper into the apartment, clutching a lush bouquet of red roses.

You were already reaching for the switch when suddenly a low voice came from the depths of the chair:

• Beautiful.

You screamed, nearly dropping the flowers. Silas sat in the darkness, leaning back. His shirt was unbuttoned, and he had a look in his eyes... something you'd never seen before. This wasn't your usual, level-headed husband. This was a man who'd been slowly driven mad by his own thoughts for hours.

“Sile... God, you scared me,” you pressed your hand to your heart. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

He rose slowly, his movements frighteningly calm.
“Who is this from?” he asked.

"And this..." you tried to smile, but your lips wouldn't obey. "A colleague gave it to me at the end of the evening."

His fingers slowly ran over one of the petals.
"So, a colleague," he looked up at you, "and he just decided to give you flowers? Without any further plans?"

• What's wrong with you? He's just a colleague. Nothing special...

Silas didn't let you finish. He silently took the bouquet from your hands. You thought he'd go to the vase, but he headed straight for the trash can. With one sharp, rough movement, he crushed the flowers and threw them away.

"Silas! What are you doing?!" you screamed, stepping back.

In two steps he closed the distance and pressed you against the wall.
"Don't give my wife any flowers," he growled. "I'll give you any. As many as you want. But no other bastard will give you any as long as I'm alive."
//Your actions?//