Julia had started second-guessing everything. A glance, a shrug, a silence—each felt like a clue. She tried to stay rational, but it was hard not to feel on edge. Connor’s behavior wasn’t extreme, but it was off just enough to make her uneasy. She couldn’t stop noticing it.
Twice a week, he still came home late—always citing errands or meetings that had run long. As soon as he walked in, he’d head straight to the laundry room and toss his clothes in the machine. “Just helping out,” he’d say. “You don’t need more stress right now.”