Nightmare: Ntr

Different wrist.

Mark turned. His eyes were flat. Not angry. Worse: resigned. “I saw you,” he said. Not yelling. Just tired. The way a man sounds when he’s already packed his bags inside his head. “At the hotel on Lombard. You said you were working late.” ntr nightmare

Lena’s throat closed. She’d bought him that watch last week. For their anniversary. The receipt was still in her purse. Different wrist

Downstairs, the building’s front door clicked shut. ntr nightmare

No. Mark doesn’t wear a watch.