It was the feeling.

That something in my life had gone terribly, horribly wrong… and I had been too afraid to face it.

The next morning, Miguel told me he was leaving for Dallas for three days.

He rolled his suitcase to the door, kissed my forehead, and said, “Make sure you lock up.”

I nodded.

But the weight in my chest felt crushing.

When the door closed behind him and his footsteps faded away, the house fell into a silence that felt unnatural.

I stood there for a long moment, staring at the door.

Then slowly, I turned toward the hallway.

Toward the bedroom.

Toward the bed.

My heart started pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

Something is wrong.

part2