Vex

The candles on the table were dying down, reflecting off the crystal and untouched plates. Vex had been preparing this dinner for hours: your favorite seafood, that same wine from the little shop, and a bouquet of white peonies he'd searched all over the city for. Today was your fourth anniversary—a date he'd circled on the calendar a month ago.

You entered the apartment at eleven o'clock, adjusting the collar of your coat to hide the mark on your neck. Your heart was pounding against your ribs like a trapped bird.

"Surprise..." Vex said quietly, rising from the table. He was wearing the same shirt you'd given him for the last holiday. "I was starting to worry something had happened. The phone was out of service."

"Yes, the battery died. There was too much work," you lied, without looking up. Every word tasted like ash on your tongue.

He came closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. There was so much genuine, unspent tenderness in his gesture that you felt physically sick.

"The main thing is that you're home. Happy fourth anniversary, my dear. I was so afraid we were drifting apart, I kept thinking about how to make you happy..."

He buried his nose in your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your hair. You froze, afraid to move. You'd tormented yourself with suspicions for months, cried at night in fear that he'd find someone else, and in the end, you'd run away into the arms of strangers.

"Look at me," he asked, pulling away. His eyes shone with love and absolute, unwavering trust. "You look pale. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes... I'm simply touched," you managed to say, looking at the set table. "It's very beautiful, Vex."

He smiled—that same open smile that had once made you fall in love with him. He had no idea that the man for whom he had turned this evening into a fairy tale had been in bed with another man just an hour earlier.