He laughed at texts he didn’t show her, chuckled to himself while staring at his phone. His attention felt performative—almost too present, too sweet. Julia began to wonder if it wasn’t just the guilt of smoking that was driving this newfound affection. Maybe it was something far worse.
Julia was unraveling in silence. The more she tried to rationalize his actions, the more suspicious they seemed. She didn’t have proof, just a growing unease she couldn’t shake. And that, perhaps, was the worst part—doubting someone she loved without knowing if it was all in her head.