The entire evening felt wrong. Off rhythm. Like a familiar song being played out of tune. She wiped down the counters slowly, staring out the window into the dark yard.
The reflection of her face stared back, faint in the glass, tired eyes, pursed lips, a stiffness in her jaw she hadn’t noticed until now.
She’d gotten her hair done. Nails, too. Spent time just being herself, trying to remember what it felt like to be a woman outside of motherhood. And he didn’t say a word. Not about her hair. Not about the color on her nails. Not about her.
The sound of the water running upstairs had already stopped. A few minutes later, she heard the soft creak of their bed as he climbed in, not waiting for her.
No conversation.
No TV.
Just silence.
Kylee took a deep breath, tossing the damp rag into the sink. The hum of the dishwasher filled the quiet, steady and low.
Her eyes drifted toward the hallway that led to their bedroom.
Something wasn’t right. But once again she let it go.
The next morning at the clinic it buzzed with its usual quiet rhythm, soft classical music playing low from hidden ceiling speakers. But for Jake, everything felt louder. Sharper. Like his nerves were exposed.
Rachel was already at the front desk when he arrived, typing away with painted nails and a coffee in hand. She wore another same tight fit dress with a high slit and sleeves that slid off her shoulders like an invitation. Her dark red lipstick was bolder than yesterday
“Morning, Dr.W ,” she said with a wink, not bothering to hide the way her eyes trailed down the length of his body. “Late night?”
He paused, jaw tight. “Yeah. Busy.”
Rachel tilted her head, her smile sweet but edged. “You seem tense again. Might need another….. Adjustment?”
He didn’t answer. Just moved past her, heading into his office with a briskness he hoped came off as indifferent. But he felt her watching him the entire way.
Once behind his desk, he sat down hard and rubbed his hands over his face. The memory of yesterday clawed at the back of his mind her voice, her body, and her hands. The sound of the door closing behind him as he left her. The guilt hadn’t sunk all the way in. But something did.
And still he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t stop looking at her. She made it worse. Her presence was magnetic, disruptive. She floated between exam rooms with a swing in her hips and purpose in every step, as if she knew exactly what she’d done and exactly how to keep doing it without saying another word.
At one point between patients, she brought a folder into his office. Instead of placing it neatly on his desk, she leaned overunnecessarily far, placing the papers directly in front of him, her perfume saturating the air.
“The afternoon’s wide open if you need time to catch your breath,” she said, lips hovering a little too close to his ear. “I’m good at clearing space... when you need it.”
Jake didn’t respond right away. He looked at her, really looked at her and for one moment, let the weight of what was happening settle on his chest.
Kylee’s face flashed in his mind. Her voice last night was calm but heavy. He blinked, shook his head slightly. “I’ve got work to do,” he said, his voice low and clipped.
Rachel straightened, her smile unfazed. “Just say the word, Dr. Waterman. “And then she was gone. But the scent of her lingered. And so did everything else.
Back at home Kayla’s soft breathing filled the nursery as Kylee laid her down for her nap, gently pulling the blanket over her tiny frame. She lingered by the crib, brushing a finger along her daughter’s cheek, but her mind was elsewhere too loud, too unsettled.
Jake hadn’t texted all morning. Nothing about his schedule. No update. Something didn’t sit right.
Kylee walked into the hallway, pulling her phone from her pocket. She scrolled through her messages. The last one from him was short, sent early: Busy morning. Talk later.
She tried to let it go. Tried to focus on the laundry, on prepping Jake Jr.’s uniform for practice, on the growing list of things she always handled without complaint.
But her chest felt tight. Her instincts buzzed like a static warning just under the skin.
And then there was Rachel. Her tone yesterday on the phone. Too cheerful. Too involved.
Kylee chewed the inside of her cheek and made a decision before she could talk herself out of it.
