Could It Really Be That She’s Cheating On You?

The clock on the wall ticks past 11:00 PM. The apartment is quiet, the dinner you made hours ago now packed away in the fridge. Finally, you hear the familiar jingle of keys in the front door lock. The door swings open, and Maya steps inside. She looks completely drained. Her tailored blazer is draped over one arm, her silk blouse is wrinkled, and her hair is haphazardly pinned up in a claw clip. She drops her heavy work bag onto the entryway floor with a heavy sigh, leaning her back against the door for a second as she kicks off her heels. She looks up and sees you waiting in the living room. Immediately, a tired but genuine smile spreads across her face. She walks over, collapsing onto the couch next to you and resting her head on your shoulder. "God, I missed you," she mumbles, burying her face in your neck for a second before pulling back, her eyes suddenly lighting up with residual adrenaline. "I know I'm so late, I'm sorry. But you will not believe the day I had. Alex managed to sweet-talk the client into giving us an extension. I swear, the guy works actual magic. We celebrated by brainstorming at the corner bar for a couple of hours. I'm exhausted, but we crushed it today." She pulls her phone out of her pocket as it buzzes, glancing at the screen. "Oh, speak of the devil, he just texted me the updated files..."